


Adventures in Tevinter

by Ovmalk



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ovmalk/pseuds/Ovmalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started as a simple fill, just:<br/>"dorian isn't treated well even in skyhold. lavellan, he warns, would be treated even worse in tevinter. no one there makes a distinction between city elf or dalish, and would assume the worst in every possible way.</p>
<p>i want the tables turned--lavellan talks dorian into letting him help dorian in his mission to reform tevinter. and he bears all the insults with the best grace--it's dorian that is flashing fire and rage whenever anyone dares insult the inquisitor. (he saved the world while being the best boyfriend dorian's ever had, for fuck's sake!)"<br/>But now it's not showing signs of stopping. There's a plot in here, I swear it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This all comes from the fact that while playing Lavellan for the first playthrough I argued with Dorian a lot. How I managed to romance him is still beyond me. The thing is that while in that playthrough I had some thoughts on how he would get carried away with arguing and not stop to think about things more closely, and yes it's easy for me to say sitting here comfortably with a controller, but I realized mid-game that I loved that about the character. So this prompt by OP let me focus on that a little bit and have some fun. I hope it's not too bad.))

It's been vital to their relationship that Ebrik ignore Dorian's protests, to an extent. It wasn't that Dorian protested too much, so much as that he protested too passionately when he did and made it known very clearly and sometimes to everyone in the library in case there witnesses were needed- or who knew with him. One of the times he's had cause to protest that way was when confronted by the subject of his returning to Tevinter. In part Ebrik had at first considered it with a perfectly healthy fear that this meant leaving him. Which had maybe made it slightly biased and impulsive when he had offered to go with him.

That was then, this was now. Now he's had time to think about it, argue, argue again and pack. 'Those who do not argue aren't fit for each-other' he tried to remind himself, as an older clan member had told him once. Which was why he was bracing for the shit-storm. "You are aware I've been listening to you speak about the place non-stop since you got to Haven, yes?" He asked, apprehensive. It earned him a look. "It's going to be difficult, and ultimately it's going to be alright. Besides, I'm not going alone."

"Try not to threaten me." Dorian teased- though it didn't have as much heat as his teasing usually did, if you knew what you were listening for. "Now I have to take you. Maker forbid you actually try that." He examined Ebrik's skeptical look and seemed to find it unconvincing. "You would too, insane that you are."

"Alright, the shoe fits, I admit it. Good thing I'm going with you then."

"Good thing you're sticking to the plan too." Dorian told him, tone saying he made that decision for the inquisitor and it was final, not that it had stopped the elf before. The plan, as he called it, had been a droll lecture on chantry policies and misuse of lack of evidence from a time of many, and very horrible mistakes. The part his non-curator memory retained the best was that with Corypheous as an account of fact with witnesses and support of "credible" sources, the chantry would not be able to deny magisterium involvement with the darkspawn, be it religious-compliant or an experiment gone horribly wrong. Oh and some argument about it possibly getting the herald killed.

"Is crossing the Silent Plains the best course of action?"

"Without a contact? The worse, which is why the confusion would buy us time- I'd hope." Dorian told him, then made a shrugging motion. "You've dragged me through every desert known to the south, uneasy about me dragging you through one?" He asked him, examining a tome he was debating in taking- which meant it should stay.

So the highway it was- an incomplete highway- and the most travelled road, but at least it made for the chance to move quickly. Infrastructure had that effect. Moving through the woods would work too but without the proper implements for long-distance it would take much too long and they needed to reach their destination with better speed than that. It also meant merchants and missives. There was no hopes even in their wildest and most erotic fantasies that the Imperium wouldn't know the inquisitor was visiting it. It also forced their hand into moving quickly and soon enough they were leaving for Nevarra.

Nevarra, the inquisitor had thought, should not present a problem. But stepping into the highway meant crossing the city proper and with everything that implied. Not that it couldn't be done without respect, which was the hope. What they hadn't expected was for the rifts to have had an effect on the fade this far. The road led them towards a sort of 'wrong' feeling in the fade- or so his mage companion told him. Which led to them stopping at an inn near Val Chevin to rest just in case and to ask about the city's condition.

"Asking at a tavern. Subtle." Varric said as they crossed the front doors. Weapons as discrete as they could make them, save for a staff for walking which was about as subtle as Varric had in mind. "Next we'll be taking messages at the chantry board."

"Not far from the truth there, Varric." Ebrik confessed, not even stopping to look around for long before he was taking a seat. Better to look like they belonged. Asking for something to eat would give him time to think about how to approach this as naturally as he could. "Now give me your best merc act." He joked, pleased with what he came up with before asking for a round of drinks for him and the 'boys' in a way he hoped The Bull would approve of. He'd learned not to gesture too much with his bandaged hands but here he had to and kept it to his non-affected hand out of habit more than anything. "Say, me and my companions are a bit short of work these days, though not coin yet- and we want to keep it that way. Any work worth our while in the city?"

"Depends, if your perfectly non-magical companion there is good at cleansing the spirits back into their dreams then you'll find plenty." They were told. That was interesting.

"You'd think of all places Nevarra would know what to do with their own spirits." Ebrik pressed.

"You'd think- but are the rumors true? Has the south really broken open the fade?"

"Yes and closed it again- we kept out of that, it was for the best. But there's a scar in the sky that's hard to miss." Better keep that convincing, he thought. "Why? Was this land affected too?"

"Who wasn't affected? A hole is punched into the fade by maleficar and abominations run rampant in the land. The spirits of the dead can't be expected to find peace in those conditions. Will you be staying? It's a long road ahead and there are a lot of merchants keeping off the road but I'm certain we can accommodate you." The barkeep asked, indulging them like this to coax their patronage.

"Well now we definitely are. Boys I think I found us some work." Ebrik told his companions, who went along with it- jokes they were making aside- since he put up the act.

"Yeah we heard, Boss, we have ears." Calling him boss seemed to amuse the hell out of Cassandra for some reason, and her having been listening closely at the conversation wasn't a surprise to him either. "This isn't right." She told him, tone more sober when the barkeep had left to put their paid coin away and possibly to retrieve the keys to their rooms. "If Corypheous upset the balance in the fade in such a manner we should expect anything in the city." She warned.

"And yet why is the city the least of my worries?" Varric asked her, looking like he wanted to strangle someone from his past again. "We're going to be at the road longer and if whatever this is has the merchants fleeing a possible profit, you can bet it has to be deadly- I'm talking nothing short of the undead we're all thinking about and not mentioning."

"Well we're not mentioning the undead, you are. It could be demons, it could be abominations, maybe we get to the city and everyone has become a possessed abomination cult." Dorian listed. "And those are the popular choice of bad decision, the list goes on."

"Alright, point taken, let's get some rest." Ebrik told them, breaking this now before it got morose rather than derisively sarcastic of the road ahead.

Thankfully their rooms were a nice start- especially since it was one of the few advantages the road had to offer over the woods- or at least for the sake of the company he kept. Ebrik found the excess of noise disturbing. Not having spent long in taverns like this, rather than Haven's quieter cottage, Skyhold and the arravel. He'd have to get used to it, though, because they would not reach Tevinter in a day, realistically. "It beats the camping." Dorian told him sitting on the bed and finding it pleasant.

"Have to confess, I don't see how." Ebrik admitted. "But I suppose I'll count it as a step towards giving you the world in a silver platter."

"A horrible folly, that plan." Dorian warned him, not for the first time either. "Though it serves your ulterior motives, I suppose."

"Nonsense, my plan is perfectly altruistic." This brought Dorian to him with a smirk, so whatever he was doing in said 'plan' was, like Dorian just accused, working well for his perfectly selfless motives.

"Need I remind you where this plan of yours is taking you?" Dorian asked him, placing his hands over Ebrik's shoulders and trying to coax him to follow his own advice and get some damn rest, not that he'd reveal that plan for what it was. Still the touch was telling and Ebrik relaxed onto it. "I've never seen a man plan such extremes with no results in mind." He had a point, Ebrik had to admit to himself with a hum.

"It's only taking me to exciting places, admit it." Ebrik challenged with a chuckle. "And my ulterior motives are secrets you'd rather I keep to myself and I'd rather tell everyone we meet." He added, because that had been another thing they argued over. He really loved this man and how perfectly confrontational he was about everything. "Besides, I've never met someone like you, you'd do the same if you were in my position."

"Spew declarations of love and saccharine comments while getting myself killed? Good thing I've never met someone like me." Dorian mock-warded. "I doubt it." He added, bringing him along. "Now sleep."

"I can think of something else."

"No you don't. Sleep. There will be undead for you to fend tomorrow and you handle quite a lot of sharp objects."

"I thoughts your words were abomination cult"

"Now I really want you to sleep." Dorian said. "And when we wake up it will hopefully not be spiders." There was another possibility, and it would have anyone running, but none in their group had or would talk about it. Best not ruin the mood by bringing it up. But he did hold onto Dorian a bit tighter than he expected before they went to sleep. Something Dorian did notice.

It had been at the Storm Coast that he'd first seen darkspawn close to Dorian. That had stuck with him as the most afraid he'd been for the man. Not with Coripheus, not his lyrium dragon, his templars, the demons, none of it. It was with the prospect of that horrible tainted death that he had finally thought the words 'I should let you go home if this is what we're going to fight'. He had been fortunate Cole was with him then. 'It's not his blood, he's not tainted' he had breathed out in that quiet tone of his and not a moment too soon because with the last of the truly monstrous creatures dead he had turned and stormed his way to Dorian to speak his peace about darkspawn and about how he never wanted to see the mage make any of these things explode close to him ever again- and insist on burning his armor- he had only calmed down when Dorian took a look at his expression and sobered up, refusing to step back.

'I've never seen you react like that, Amatus', Dorian had told him later, when he'd calmed, when they were washing clothes in the salt and burning things beyond repair. 'You've never seen one before, have you?' He asked, realizing what happened.

'Only stories and their trail of dead loved ones' he made a face 'the things don't even have the decency to give you a proper clean death, instead the spread their- sickness.' He spat the word out like a curse.

And now Nevarra was in some kind of disarray that could mean more of them. More of that. If it came to it, Ebrik knew. Creators forgive him, he would take the group and cross the border to the imperium. Not for small clusters of the things, but if there was a real true blight he would pull them out. Not that a real true blight had any other immediate response that wasn't that one. Maybe if given time to think about it, maybe with circumstances. He'd met heroes but the one he admired the most had been gone by the time he was established in Ferelden. Maybe if he'd have met the warden he could ask, really ask 'how did you do it?’

The next morning met them leaving at dawn, as soon as possible, rooms paid for and things in order. They had plans to make good time on the road and possibly find something to eat on the way there. So far nobody was outright running- good sign, and they weren't for miles ahead. There were people moving caravans on horseback but not an entire country fleeing. Again a good sign. "Well so far no signs of panic."

"That could be good, maybe their problems are blown out of proportion. Or maybe you can't run from the problem they have." Varric joked.

"Never commenting about the road to you before you've had tea." Ebrik replied.

"There's no food in me, it comes with the territory."

Getting something to eat occupied their mind, and already Ebrik was swearing to himself that one more mile and he'd abandon this road business and go hunting like the creators intended. Then he noticed Casandra grab his arm and look around. The road was empty. It hadn't been like this until now, this was a highway, people travelling from Nevarra, Cumberland, even Orlais and back. Merchants moving things- there was always someone. "Off the road." Ebrik muttered when he heard the first step on the grass around them "Now." Their hands already on their weapons.

Varric took the moment to set up simple cantrips, possibly so they could force any assailants into the road and onto them, maybe set them on fire, the usual. They were far from unprepared after what was essentially a war with Corypheous. Instead what they got was a group of the shamblers they expected. They were counting them, wondering if this was a cluster of disturbed spirits or if they were looking at a never-ending horde of undead. It looked like the latter and they waited where they were, off the road, observing the macabre march. "There's magic at work here." Dorian told him, then quieted when Ebrik looked at him. He was going to say something when a giant stepped among the shamblers, followed by what seemed like undead Qunari.

"You think, Sparkler?" Varric asked, watching the march simply step on the cantrips and carry on walking over their own fallen. "I don't know how to tell you this, inquisitor but the road's not an option today."

"Yeah, maybe it never was." And he was half-tempted to turn back and try to face them and half-tempted to find the source. "You said this might be magic, maybe we're dealing with some angry mage in Nevarra. We can handle angry mages, can't we?" Ebrik asked, bringing them along as quietly as he could move them through the woods, and to think they would tease him for rock climbing from time to time. It also gave him a nice view of how organized this army of undead was. There really was no other word for it either, simply army.


	2. Chapter 2

The run to Nevarra was a trek of a day and half the night, non stop. None of them dared suggest they stop. Aches, hunger and tiredness aside. They all knew this force could not be allowed to catch Cumberland off guard if there was anything they could physically do about it. Ebrik found the hope particularly drew him into a run so he ran through the slabbed streets until he glimpsed a red sash, he focused on it and saw it was a guard or knight of some sort. There may be aid for Cumberland yet. "Guard!" He called, the look he got as an elf sliding over him like unimportant, especially now, instead he slowed in his approached so the man didn't stab him before he could help the south. "The imperial highway has a marching force, headed south. We would wish to warn Cumberland of this before they could reach it. We made a day and count in distance but they were slower that us- when we last saw them at least."

"Really? And how many was that army composed of?" The guard asked, skeptical of a report as wild as that.

"Easily three-hundred corpses six feet and shorter, we spotted three decaying giants and dozens quinari in the same state before we broke contact and headed here." Ebrik told him without missing a beat. This gave the guard pause, perhaps it was the sand and sweat on him, that he'd been running through the city like a madman or how he looked ready to jump over the guard's head and simply steal a bird, consequences be damned.

"Let me get you off the street first." He said, looking around at the attention they gathered. By the time they spoke to the commander they were able to write Cumberland, Skyhold and Orlais, they spoke to a commander of the force and he seemed to be off to brief his men. "the crack in the sky down south has been creating problems in the city recently, I will admit." The guard told him. "There's skepticism but some of us know it was that thing that made everything wrong with the mortiliasi." Ebrik thanked him and went to plan ahead with his companions.

"We should speak to the mortiliasi, find out what's happening down there. It is down is it not? What would make them send an army down the road?"

"Nothing short of danger." Cassandra told him, looking as confused as they all felt "The specialists will tell you it's when the living are threatened that the dead are woken." She added, having come from this land and probably asked the obvious questions with something like Necromancy so brazenly practiced. The answer had probably sounded like that. "Inquisitor perhaps we should speak to my family, they may have been informed by just those mortiliasi of what happened."

Ebrik nodded and followed her, looking around. Varric voiced his thoughts as they walked "The city seems none the wiser." Varric said "just business as usual, with them, and rumors of trouble that doesn't concern them here and there. Trust me, nothing interesting's happened here for a while."

"Well I'd say we can rule out maleficar but they seem to come in 'flavors', so I suppose eventually speaking to an expert would help." Dorian told the inquisitor. There was always something a little different when Dorian was speaking to Ebrik to when Dorian was speaking to the inquisition through Ebrik. It irked Ebrik slightly that he thought he'd have to keep some kind of formality but he supposed it was a human thing; he wasn't the only one who stiffened on him like that from time to time.

"We can do that." Ebrik said, keeping it in mind if they couldn't find answers here. Speaking to Cassandra's family involved more templars than he'd thought. Which shouldn't have been surprising, her family was more akin to a military division than it was family the way he knew it- but at the same time the warmth when she greeted another woman of about her age was nothing short of universal. Ebrik decided for a formal military greeting he'd seen directed at commander Cullen. It would have to offset his lack of Nevarran protocol for now when he was introduced. "It's an honor. Cassandra has told me about you." He assured them, hopeful to let her family know she hadn't forgotten them while in Ferelden.

The presence of templars also put him more at ease of Dorian's suggestions of a maleficar cult, after all, these were men and women trained to capture mages. It was what they did with some of those mages that he found- well- unsettling. Recently they had been knee-deep in corrupted templars as well- not counting the dragon- and the thought of them making his mages tranquil had crossed his mind. It didn't let go of him for days until he'd retrieved the seekers. Now on the other hand, with Cassandra here, he had little to no problems speaking to them about the assault on the road and asking them if anything was wrong.

"Well the city proper had a crypt by the road you speak of, we should check it out, make sure nobody's been harmed." The woman Cassandra greeted suggested. She set out to go with them and make sure of it, accompanying them to the crypt in question. "We don't see the mortiliasi as often these days, but they keep to themselves mostly, so we don't make much of it; they're under enough scrutiny that if they were to make a mistake you would hear it everywhere." She explained as she guided them.

"Mages often are." Ebrik said, understanding what she meant. They walked further out the city borders, houses getting smaller as they approached the crypts, buildings that at the current dawn were starting to make themselves visible in the distance. The fact that the floor was no longer made of heavy slabs didn't escape him and he got the macabre idea of what the slabs had to be for- as opposed to lighter materials like cobblestone or brick. "We might want to keep an eye out, if the crypt has been disturbed this is the perfect place for them to keep the woken." He told them, again, drawing weapons. He didn't personally notice the undead, he felt the barrier wash over them before he actually saw them, almost coating his weapons with poison when he remembered that was pointless.

"The priests!" Someone warned, and at first Ebrik didn't know what they meant, vanishing out of sight and throwing daggers he kept count of. Until he descended on one of the shamblers to disable their movement and put an end to them, noticing what the undead were wearing. The priests did this to themselves? Hard to believe. At the moment, however, the concern was the seemingly unending amount of undead.

"Care to stay a bit closer to each-other from time to time?" Dorian complained, indadvertedly creating light for them as his instinct with the creatures was to set them on fire. Ebrik noticed what his complains were about, the wave of foes seemed to lure them further and further away from each-other. Of course he'd notice, controlling the field from time to time was among the things he did. "I'm about to make this very confusing, Ebrik." He warned. Starting to raise corpse after corpse around the inquisitor once he was safely- relatively- surrounded by fire. Ebrik could maneuver around them, it was the least of his worries as they would rise to kill their once-brethren.

"They have to be coming from somewhere." Cassandra told him. "We should find the source before we're truly surrounded by the blighters." She was right and Ebrik waited until the newly-risen could handle the onslaught before using his training to vanish from sight, sneaking past the wave to find whatever was raising these things- or had made them march towards them. He caught a glimpse of a device and took a closer look. It was strange-looking, like someone had suspended looking glasses on wires around a stone of some sort. There was Lyrium here and mechanics he couldn't understand.

He didn't have the chance to crack the glass. Someone grabbed his arm when he raised the pummel of his dagger to do it, pulling it back over his shoulder- which presented a problem- and against the correct motion of his joint, making his body comply and turn from the pain alone to protect it. He got a look at the living man behind this when he turned and tried to use his other hand to stab at him. The necromancer didn't know what hit him. Not expecting him to think properly after his stunt with Ebrik's arm, let alone in barely a second. He instead grunted and growled at him.

"You blighted knife-ear, do you know what you've-" he got across before Ebrik could warn him it was a bad idea. Then exploded.

"He could have been interrogated." Ebrik started, looking like it was another argument in the making.

"His work will speak more politely." Dorian told him defensively.

"Sparkler?" Varric called, shooting more of the remaining things. Apparently killing the one idiot had not stopped them. "Tell me you two aren't gonna argue now." He warned, gripping an entire bulk of bolts and loading them into that repeating crossbow- somehow. One day Ebrik would know how he made it rain death like that.

"So much for his work." Ebrik grumbled, moving around Dorian, who'd started to try to delicately reverse this, and broke the glass once and for all. Effectively the undead stopped attacking to deteriorate under their own decomposition and collapse. "Can you make out what he did?" He asked, removing his hand quickly and telling none of them that his mark felt like someone had just stabbed something through it's center and burned his veins.

"Well it's going to take longer now." Dorian told him, but got to work, as always, unfailing when it came down to it. Willing to do anything he asked at the end of the day, protests, kicks and screams aside. He seemed morbidly fascinated with the device, which was a good sign.

"Cassandra how are we holding up?" Ebrik asked, not hearing her and looking for her. She seemed tired but alright, coming up to them with her cousin, having been fighting alongside her. They seemed to be making grim comments and it let Ebrik know they knew something about this.

"If I don't have to cut more corpses for the day I will call it a blessing." She told him "other than that we should find out what happened to the priests." She added, checking on one of them and making a face.

"This is old." Dorian told him. Ebrik smiled up at the sky. Years of studying every field of magic known to man in the birthplace of maleficars, and his answer was 'this is old'. "Don't make that face, this is old, infuriating and it used the rift's intervention with the fade to wake the dead once. It's weaker now, but I'm sure there have to be more, there's always more and bigger." Dorian warned him.

Ebrik nodded and checked on what was left of their possible prisoner. There was part of him that said he was from Tevinter. Dorian probably loved that, he thought sarcastically. Another chunk that said he was a cultist, and here he thought he took care of those. And another that said he was supplied.

"Tevinter cultist, most likely, the research seems well supplied too. Joy." Dorian complained in answer leaving the broken device be.

Ebrik smiled, kept his findings to himself and nodded. "Thank you, ma vhenan" He told him instead, letting him have that. "We could go deeper in the crypt. What do you think, Cassandra?" He asked her, looking beyond the board where the device was mounted and into the gaping hole of a city that was the crypts of Nevarra.

"I think there will be more of these things, if Dorian is right about the artifact." She advised. "We can have support here in hours, there is no need to advance. But there may be priests still alive in there and if so then time will be too precious for that." Ebrik nodded, thankful that he brought her along.

"I've travelled with enough guys like you, we're going down there, right?" Varric asked him, making sure his crossbow and the amount of bolts on him weren't going to fail him.

"We are. Do you need anything before we go?" Ebrik asked, looking around once to see if they had anything of particular importance on them, noticing a set of keys on a chunk of the once-necromancer and keeping his entire bag with him, keys included. They didn't seem to and the group was free to move down the stairs in their hurry to find life in this ironic place. The pain on his arm had also receded by now but the usual strange feeling he got when he closed a rift was lingering on his fingertips. Again, none of these things he told anyone around him, they had enough in their minds and there were people to keep safe.

The crypt proper was built into the stone beneath as it was built above, like a descending city with no end in sight. How were they going to find anyone here? The moved down the carved trail, embedded to the edges of the walls, splitting into makeshift roads, and tried to ignore the stone slabs that covered what they all knew were more bodies that could be animated against them. Effectively they were with a protest from the stone around them. Fighting through them was trickier this time, given the precarious climb.

"Watch the way down." Cassandra warned, ushering them with her movements to protect them from falling. Varric on the other hand measured and gave a jump to another of the ledges, clearing it with quick bolts into the emerging crypts and choosing this as his point from which to shoot at the unsettling creatures. At the proximity Dorian started physically fighting the nearest shamblers, smacking at them with the staff in wide arching movements, setting fire to them on contact rather than range. To the inquisitor, however, this kind of fighting was more comfortable for him. He wasn't stuck with the shamblers in close quarters, they were stuck with him, and it showed. He gave each flurries of rapid stabs, and swift cuts, as if he was practicing with moving slabs of meat in skyhold, even having the comfort of where to kick them so he'd have space for more and to step around.

He looked over the edge and realized how many more there were along the way, there had to be a way to keep his companions to less risk. "We could jump onto the ledges and make our way down." He offered.

"That could not possibly be a horrible, sudden death." Cassandra said from where she was close to him.

"It'll be like one of Varric's novels, Cassandra, think about it." He coaxed, like their bad conscience that he was. She gave him a bit of a look. "Really not even a bit exciting? We'll jump in and try to land on one of the other platforms, like this was an investigation in a crypt."

"It is an investigation in a crypt." Cassandra deadpanned. "Alright" she added, eyeing how Dorian had little by little been pushed to her cousin. "Let's do this." She told the inquisitor, gripping the hilt and stepping into position, measuring the leap. As did he, stepping to the edge while they fought and knowing the look on Varric's face- good, Varric was in on the plan.

"Don't panic on me, Sparkler." Varric warned. The next moment they both leaped from where they were to a different group, Cassandra arching her blade to the level of their awaiting necks, shield close to her, in the hopes that it and the bodies would break her fall. The inquisitor had both daggers raised over his head, ready to land right on the vital points he was eyeing. The fall was a long way down but the way gravity works made it a fast one, giving their foes little time to react.

"Why would I panic? He's only killing himself." The Inquisitor heard once he'd landed as he stabbed at the foes around him, making no comment about the barrier he felt the moment his feet had touched the ground.

"There she is." Ebrik muttered almost lovingly at the door, fetching the keys when he wasn't engaged in combat. "Cover me Cassandra."

"Sure, investigate ahead, feel free. We have no pressing matters." She teased with a smirk but still held her position in combat like the warrior she was. Ebrik fiddled with the locks and opened them as quickly as the keys allowed, examining what was inside immediately, looking for one of those glass operators. Fortunately for him, the operating artifact happened to glow. It was an ominous green he was familiar with and made him ill-at-ease but it was his target. He could worry about the spell-caster later, instead going for the target and taking it out.

The pain was more intense this time, as the device had been larger as well. He didn't know how these things worked but he guessed size had to do with it. He gripped his wrist until he was hit by a block of stones on the side, knocking him over. Almost swearing that had been a fist-like motion rather than them being thrown like projectiles. Well, he found the mage.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Removed some repeated text, this was entirely posted somewhere else, I'm trying to avoid those kinds of errors.

The spell caster's luck didn't last long and before long Cassandra was nullifying his protective spells for him. Why did these idiots always think he was alone? He gathered himself and got up to help her but she had this well under control. Mages out here were very unused to having their powers stripped from them like this and his face was priceless. It really would be a shame to but-in and not enjoy this at leisure so he chuckled and warned as he went for the fallen bag, letting her slice him nicely. "Try to let him live, I need answers from someone" he said, letting the angry mage insult him. Calling him some kind of filth in his language. Not that it mattered to him as he approached him with the knife. "Where are the priests?" He asked, brandishing his knives.

"Irrumabo servus stercore" he spat. Cassandra decided to take over this, patting the Inquisitor and eyeing him as if asking if he was alright.

"Allow me. He'll talk." She said. Dragging their prisoner with her as their companions walked in, one of the, casting a fire to the torches so they could see in here. "How does your arm?"

"Nothing of concern, the rock didn't break anything." He assured her, letting get get to work on her interrogating magic.

"I recommend you talk, cultist, she's pretty convincing." Varric told him as she 'convinced' him. Blessedly it was fast. Torture was never a big thing with the inquisitor but he could see how it was necessary. He followed what their prisoner said and forced a lever lose and with Varric's help rolled up a chain to push down it's length from the other side to release a cage, half covered with water while Cassandra and Dorian helped the remaining priests out of this hole. Not an easy task seeing as they were emaciated and looked like they'd been tortured themselves.

"Is there anyone else down here?" Dorian asked the priests.

"We were betrayed from the inside but they didn't attack us at the height of day so no." They answered after making sure with each-other. "We'll be leaving to the surface to tell the authorities and the other mortiliasi." They added. Ebrik nodded and brought them along to the surface to do just that. Perhaps when they were seen to by healers they could answer about what had been happening in here. Perhaps help stop the army he'd seen marching south.

Once they got into the city proper and at request of help they were given something to eat as well. Only then did Ebrik approach the man who seemed to be instructing the priests in their arts, their elder so to speak. He sat with him and asked him about what happened as inquisition scouts, no doubt Leiliana's doing after reading their message, made sure they had lodging and what they would need. He knew it would draw higher attention soon but for now he had time. "I know this may not be the best time, but we have no choice but to ask." He started, proceeding to explain what happened to the older man.

"This started with the southern rifts. There were people from Nevarra sent to aid against whatever could be happening in the sky at Haven. All we knew was that the conclave was the source and that there was need for help from the nation. This was true for other nations as well and we called in assistance from Seheron as well." He explained. "We don't know what happened at the island but when help from Seheron came, it came in this form. We were captured and imprisoned in the crypts, watching as they studied the breach and turned a technique that should protect the living into an army." Ebrik nodded.

"If I were to ask you to work with our researchers, would you be able to shed some light into the devices we found in these crypts. The ones we destroyed to stop the dead from marching. I'm told there may be more and possibly bigger ones." He explained. And if what he confirmed was true then what rift was feeding them?

"We'll do our best to find your answers, inquisitor."

"Thank you. We're head to Tevinter at sundown, so we can trek to Seheron as well if you like, maybe find out why they did this." He added, taking his time to ask for names and possibly locations before leaving to turn in for the rest of the day.

"Dorian are you busy?" He asked, like many times in the library when part of him wanted to snatch him away into the woods where they could get lost and answer to nothing and the other wanted not to disturb him at all.

"Not terribly, no." Dorian told him, seemed glad that he came along and deciding they could both use the break. "We're at Nevarra, are you interested in looking around?" He reminded him. Maybe Dorian had thoughts like that from time to time too, only instead of snatching him to the woods and getting lost he seemed to have the more sensible thought of snatching him into a proper city where nobody knew them.

"That's actually very convincing, yes." Ebrik admitted because the walk would keep him from having to meet with anyone Josephine would want him to wash his face before meeting. "We could use the time." There was something a bit knowing in Dorian's smile and he loved every inch of his expression. Better leave before he stayed here like a smitten idiot. They took a walk deeper into the market streets, everything still open for the day. The best part was that nobody was interested in the least in what they were doing.

Ebrik found a statue of the deity's prophet Andraste carved into a peculiar red and yellow stone holding a flame, probably for decoration, in her hands. The merchant swearing that these items were made in the Anderfels. "They have an abundance of steppes of this material out there." Dorian explained, watching him look around at the others.

"Why is she depicted aflame sometimes?" Ebrik had to ask.

"Honestly I don't know. It takes morbid to be fascinated with one's prophet's death I suppose." Dorian admitted.

"And with the man who killed her." Ebrik added, having been as confused by Maferath's presence in the temples as he had been with Fen'harrel's at the Arbor wilds.

"He didn't kill her." And didn't that confuse Ebrik even more? Just when he thought he understood that story.

"The magisters who ruled the lands she agitated killed her." Was his country just filled with historical villainy? Ebrik wondered, but he kept that to himself. "Her husband simply gave the push- though I suppose I see your point."

"Still, I need to talk to you about something else." Ebrik distracted, back to walking in the hopes that they could talk alone.

"You keep forgetting the wine, Amatus, this is an abuse." He joked, amused to see Ebrik trying to keep him to himself for what would hopefully be a few hours.

"I need your thinking sharp for this one." Ebrik warned once they were out of earshot. "What can you tell me about the island of Seheron?"

"The mood came and went, brief and short-lived." Dorian mock-mourned, because the last thing he wanted to talk about when he had the inquisitor in his selfish grasp was Seheron. "Let me explain something about that island. When Bull says the qunari aren't actively fighting the imperium in Seheron I wonder what Seheron he's talking about. Yes they re-took the island, ages of bloodbath of chant proportions aside, but there's three resisting nations in there. There's the qun trying to control 'Kabethari', the island's qunari name. There's the imperium resisting their advance from the south with port support and control of the southern sea. And there's that ignored fact that the north is nobody's, filled with the Tal-Vashoth who hate them all." Ebrik watched him speak in content. This was why Dorian could never get him to read his books. Why would he when hearing him lecture was a more pleasant pastime? He watched him slip away into ages and when he trailed away to comments about some dragon fortress it was his turn to stop the advance. So to speak.

"It's going to be late, vehan'ara." He muttered, smiling, glancing at his shoulder once then touching his elbow to coax him back through the market. "I need you rested." Though Dorian didn't seem willing to take Ebrik calling him his heart's desire without repercussions, it seemed. They got back and Dorian decided he didn't have to relinquish him just yet, coaxing him along again and helping him get into something more comfortable in the most distracting way he could think of.

It was a test of will to not give into the handling, though part of Ebrik was sure he should have and that sleeping instead was a mistake. It wasn't a mistake, it turned out, at nightfall when he was more or less rested, still sore from the fighting and knowing more soreness would not help them travel. "C'mon, we need to-" he groaned in discontent, rubbing the skin below his elbow "-march the arravel or something." He grumbled, much to Dorian's amusement, as he grabbed his things. The amusement disappeared, however, and before Ebrik could ask Dorian answered.

"The rocks never actually hit you." Dorian told him, sort of realizing. "It was too soon, they hit the barrier, not you. What's wrong with your arm?" He finally asked with a skeptical look. Evading him now would make it sound like this was a problem and it wasn't a problem.

"I landed badly." He dismissed better to look stupid than to look like he was dying or something equally ridiculous.

"Why is it always this with you?" Dorian protested.

"I don't know. Why do you always argue with me?" Ebrik shrugged.

"Because you ask me to." Dorian waved it off before Ebrik could ask when he had ever asked for this and how drunk he'd been. "That's not what's important, what I want to know is how you convinced Cassandra."

"Actually you don't want to know that." He deflected. "C'mon, let's get something to eat before we start marching, you'll thank me for it."

"I certainly will thank you to feed me, walking into Tevinter with an empty stomach, can you imagine?" He asked, following him to see what the rest had figured out for food. Not that they didn't carry any, he supposed. Eating here was the easy part. But soon they had to leave Nevarra's hospitality to go to Tevinter. If the imperium had not expected them before they certainly would now. Not that Ebrik ever had illusions about that element of surprise. But now he had his hands full with them, he not only needed to fulfill their mission but he also needed to find support and a way into Seheron as well. This was going to take some time.

Nightfall helped with crossing the wastes on the way to Tevinter. They wouldn't manage it otherwise, he was sure. They weren't the only ones who did this, merchants and travelers seemed to know you didn't brave the sands during the day if you didn't have to and the road was strangely busiest at these hours, as strange a sight as it was to someone who grew up in the forests and colds of the south. As strange as the thought of a cold desert was- but he'd seen this before during his time with the inquisition. Apparently it wasn't enough to be mercilessly hot during the day, but mercilessly cold during the night but it also felt like the very sands were out to kill you sometimes.

Ebrik decided he needed to speak to Dorian the whole way. "Salve." Dorian answered to a question.

"That sounds like something you apply to the skin."

"Trust me. Saluto- consaluto. It's a fine line-" Dorian explained, taking their time alternating between instructing as best as he could- he was not the best person for this- and pulling his weight as everyone did to cross this wasteland. "You know someone could have been hired for this."

"It's not terribly essential, is it? I have you and I've got a good enough handle on the trade tongue."

"They'll speak trade tongue just fine." Varric assured him. "Can you imagine a magister's wife without a shipment of silks? The world would end."

"The world wouldn't end, a war would start- there's a difference." Dorian mock-corrected from where he was in their makeshift caravan. "That or her husband might leave an heir and tragically vanish. The true tragedy would be she wouldn't make an elegant widow either. You're sadistic." He finally praised.

"Now I know what to do if everything goes sour. We cut the silk trade." Ebrik decided with a grin.

"At a safe distance, Amatus, or at least I will back away."

"What is that?" Ebrik interrupted their joking to ask, gesturing at a structure at a distance they were passing by.

"That is Solas, not our companion, the location." He told Ebrik. "We'll be out of these wastes soon." He assured him. Vol Dorma will be a welcome sight at this point. Ebrik admitted to himself after all this walking.


	4. Chapter 4

It was past noon when they arrived. The gate to the Anderfels turned out to be less pleasant than he'd hoped- certainly less so than Nevarra, but with less scrutiny, which was a small blessing. It seemed to be a trade end for anyone coming up the highway and from the Anderfels. There was a carta-like control on the trades as well and no small amount of misery from a place where you'd think you could find anything. "This reminds me too much of Lowtown, and to think the streets aren't evenly paved." Varric warned. "Always mind the idiots."

There was a disproportion of wealth Ebrik was prepared to see further along the road. Better sooner rather than later he supposed. The slave trade was discrete here at least, something he was warned would not be true the further they got away from the Anderfels. Here they weren't risking angering the neighboring country too much but one could distinguish the classes anyway. All things considered this was very much Laethan territory.

They'd have to rest here before going to Asariel or taking the road, depending on how things were. One thing was for sure, they couldn't continue to the coast without stopping here. Though it was starting to look like camp was the smarter option. "Best see where we can stay for today, maybe fix what's left of some of our sleeping habits." He said. There was an inn nearby and various other staying arrangements possible, especially given the road crossing where the were. People camped from their travels out here as well and it was tempting to do just that for a moment, if he wasn't sure he'd have full mutiny in his hands. So the inn it was. "My companions and I are looking for a place to stay. We can afford the lodging." He clarified, thinking he might have to.

"Tell your master I don't like playing the messenger with his slaves. It's rude." The innkeeper protested. Ebrik had to wonder what- other than children- did the humans have to see the elves as to do these things to them.

"That won't be necessary, I have none. But I have coin." He said, showing him and matching his price to get this over with without incident. If all of them were going to insult him with these week comments then perhaps he could manage that. It was the same as going to shemlen in the south, only with the word 'slave' thrown in- which in itself was a depressing thought. He thanked the unpleasant innkeeper and went to find his companions, telling them this is where they'd eat. At least his companions didn't have to deal with the guy, he thought protectively. And the acid that came with it.

Instead he was glad to sit down and be able to enjoy talking to them while they ate something and took a rest from the wasteland now behind them. "Well it's a common name." Varric told them as the inquisitor asked. "But no, not from Orzammar- and let's keep it that way." He added, which only Ebrik understood between the three and kept to himself. "What I want to know is if that red-lyrium supply ever got to Minrathous."

"We're eating." Dorian complained.

"Well I don't have your sensibilities, Sparkler, but I'm serious." You said something about a shipment, when the dreadnaught- you know- do you think it stayed in that beach?"

"I honestly can't say." Ebrik muttered, staring hard at the table.

"Yeah, shouldn't have brought it up, it's not like we can swim out from here and catch up with the mages. You know what we can do? We can grab ourselves a pirate ship. Here, have some more to drink so you can start to consider it." Varric coaxed.

"Not that I haven't. I doubt anyone would know." Ebrik agreed.

"That's enough, If I let you two be where will we find ourselves?" Cassandra protested, pulling a wider grin from Ebrik. "Don't give me that look, I know you would if you were alone."

"Well I would if I could figure it out, alone or not. I'm no sailor." Ebrik admitted.

"And then you wonder why we have to reel you in." Cassandra told him with a chuckle, shaking her head. They talked for a while longer but before long their exhaustion called them to bed. Dorian, however, was pulling an unusual move on Ebrik, telling him he'd be sleeping elsewhere this time. Which at once had Ebrik asking. He really didn't have the energy to argue so he thought to himself 'Not now'.

"Exactly why are you doing this now?" Ebrik asked him, looking tired.

"Best I don't try to explain this in the hallway." Dorian told him and Ebrik had a feeling he was getting the idea from the way Dorian glanced around them. Once he'd stepped in he seemed like he wanted to reasonably explain something to a wall. "I think we both know why I should probably turn in elsewhere. It's bad enough that we're being public with who you are but we don't want to make things worse." He advised.

"Noted, now get in bed." Ebrik assured him, coaxing him by the many fastenings of his armor so he could start undoing them by now. Ebrik unclasped them one by one and leaned in, kissing him firmly to get the potential protest out of him. Not that Dorian was about to protest at all. Nobody accused him of being too selfless.

"Well if you're going to put it like that" Dorian said, smirking a little and starting to undo the bandages on his hands. Ebrik was always weary of touching him with his left hand, Dorian on the other hand seemed to have a balance of trying not to scare him off and being fascinated by the mark. Which often resulted in Dorian unwrapping it so it was visible and, like now, taking his hand to trail his lips from the center of the palm to his wrist.

"I am, now let me look at you." Ebrik agreed, still unclasping his clothes and finding the bed to coax Dorian to sit on. He pulled Dorian's mage armor from him, taking the chance, as he often did, to caress him with his left hand. Dorian seemed momentarily distracted and Ebrik supposed he was doing something right. However the mage soon started to undress him, with slightly less patience. Ebrik was definitely doing something right. Dorian kissed his newly bared shoulder and neck, making Ebrik wonder what he'd done right so he could bottle it.

Bared down to skin Dorian took his marked hand again, leaning over Ebrik and tracing his mouth over the mark again, all the way to his arm and nibbling him here and there like a man possessed, leaving the wax he used to right his mustache in his wake. That was new. The hand on the small of Ebrik's back was distracting as it kneaded him and moved lower to touch and tease the elf for all he was worth.

The ministrations on his arm stopped as abruptly as they'd begun and Dorian smiled at his state, a smug, satisfied expression. He leaned over and kissed his hand again, this time with his eyes closed and a sincere expression of devotion you might more often associate with kissing Andraste's feet. Ebrik knew it was pathetic from him but it made him feel loved, or cared for at least. He tried telling himself it wasn't about that and that what he wanted was to make Dorian feel an ounce of what he did for him. "You hide behind taking the lead like this." He managed, leaning to kiss his heart's desire's hair.

"Then I would hope you're up for the challenge, Amatus, or at least wish with my wicked little heart." He answered with a lopsided grin. Thankfully Ebrik was up to that challenge.

He woke up with less concerns than he went to sleep with at least, but then worried that Dorian would be sore or tired. This was the kind of mistake he was trying to avoid. He did watch the man, realizing Dorian hadn't woken yet and tempted to keep it that way. His hair and mustache were a pitiful mess and maybe he should steal him into the woods and that way he wouldn't have to tend them the same way. "C'mon, you don't want to know what happened to your wax."

"There's always more wax." Dorian told him. "And if there isn't, there should be." He added, getting up to fix the mess. Which he should be doing, Ebrik should get said wax off himself while he was at it. Not that it was complicated in the least. At least Ebrik could be convincing.

At least they weren't short of things to do, it kept the joints occupied and forced the stiffness into numbness instead, Ebrik thought. They prepared their things to pass Vol Dorma and into the coast, which meant re-supplying. Ebrik had noticed there could be transportation if they procured it, enough people wanting to make a port with their supplies. That could work.

Ebrik decided to ask the inn keeper about transportation in case he'd worked his companions to the quick the last few days. "If we can make a group to Minrathous itself it would be very convenient." Ebrik told him, which had the inn keeper shake his head.

"I already told you I don't do this." He complained, and tried to catch Dorian's attention instead, leaving the root bags he was organizing to speak to him. "Listen, I don't know where you come from or how long you've been out of home but you have to know this is rude." He said with a deferent tone he never took with Ebrik. One he supposed was for paying clients. "Now where is it you want to go?"

"I don't know, he leads, I simply follow." Dorian said, knowing it would discomfit the man and he couldn't wait to mentally torture him. "Are you implying the inquisitor belongs to me? Do you know how close we are to the Anderfels? Have you gone mad?" Ebrik gave Dorian a look out of the innkeeper's gaze because he was actually confusing the poor man beyond imagining, and angering him by the look of it. It also discomfited Ebrik for an entirely different reason. This was why he wanted to keep his companions away from him.

"I know, we can keep discretion, I was confused." The inn keeper said, hesitating around that last word.

They managed to coax transportation after that, Minrathous was going to be problematic if Ebrik couldn't keep things calm. But he could figure that out when they arrived. deciding that before anything else they'd have to go to the chantry. The buildings came into view by noon and he mused on how he'd seen this architecture before, just not to this scale. The difference was so sharp he was sure it wouldn't escape his tevinter companion.

Finding a place to stay here would be more complicated, Ebrik could already tell. And here he thought Vol Dorma did things under the table. Minrathous was just composed of appearances. It reminded him a bit much of Orlais, only more overt with the magic- much more overt with the magic. "Inquisitor, I was told to find you the moment you arrived." He was told as soon as he got down from the back of the cart they'd arrived at. Josephine would have choice words for him, he was sure. "Tell magister Flavius inquisitor Lavellan has arrived." The man who greeted them told his- attaché might me a strong word, actually- employee, perhaps.

"Any particular reason magister Flavius expects news of us?" Ebrik asked, having been ready to leave with him if Varric hadn't done a small gesture to make him doubt of this man's intentions.

"I was to bring you to him so he could warn you personally but it would not do to keep it from you. You aren't safe here." He was told.

"I've known that since we left Val Chevin, which is why we need to speak to the revered members of the chantry." Ebrik told them as politely as he could.

"Then allow us to help, you look like the road has offered you nothing but hardship, we would bring you up to speed if you let us." He said and Ebrik realized he had to have information on what had been happening, which in turn meant he couldn't turn them down until he knew what was going on.

"Very well, let's speak to the magister then, it's probably rude to ignore the invitation anyway." Ebrik said, following the messenger through the interestingly kept streets and into a building with colors that caught the eye but gave a sense of eccentricity he wasn't used to. Blue seemed to be their favorite color and while it wasn't abundant, it was featured flatteringly. Ebrik thought it was a quirk.

"Inquisitor Lavellan, we were- warned you would be coming." The magister couldn't help say, having thought of the gentlest way of saying that given the pause. He didn't seem derisive himself, just concerned. "Please have a seat. I believe you have your own destination in the city, I'm sure and you'll have only our cooperation."

"Is there any particular reason for all this hospitality?" Ebrik asked, not beyond being suspicious.

"It's actually concern for the Chantry. There are few truly pious people in this city who do not secretly yearn for a treacherous false god, you see. We fear that servitude to Dumat has made out people turn to horrible practices from the start. The Chantry is our only option. This gave Ebrik pause but it seemed sincere for now.

"Well I can't promise you Chantry stability, magister, that really isn't our cause. We banded together to battle Corypheous and defeated him. The only reason we're here is to make sure the causes that brought us that monster don't go unnoticed. A cautionary tale is no use if nobody tells it." He explained, hoping this wasn't some terrible misunderstanding between them.

"I see. Well there should be a way to make this mutually beneficial, I'm sure. After all you could use a place to stay while you're in the city. Let's not lie to ourselves, you would be a welcome sight for all the wrong reasons." The magister warned him.

"I suppose." Ebrik weighted his options and staying here was as good as anything. He could always take turns with his companions keeping watch, Varric is a master of the cantrip, he wasn't so bad himself, and their weapons could be kept close. "What would you like in exchange for your gracious hospitality?" He had to ask.

"Not only will your staying here vie things in my favor for certain matters, but I was hoping I could show you to the chantry at a more opportune time. Services take up their time often and it'd be best if you're not scandalizing the congregation with no relevant ears to hear you."

"I hope you're not too uncomfortable with scandalizing the congregation." Dorian warned him. "Though if we wanted to truly scandalize them; I'm sure we'd have no trouble at all."

"We'll decide what to do before we reach the chantry, thank you for your efforts, magister Flavius." Ebrik said, bringing Dorian with him to check their implements and arrange them before this magister had time to recognize Dorian and make this problematic. Like Krem had once told him: There was no escaping Minrathous if they really wanted you.

Their stay was awkward at first, their time frame having to accommodate the magister and having to figure out how to navigate the city, unlike inns, here they had to maintain certain tight protocols. Which apparently included Dorian's near refusal of spending the nights with him. He had to ask about that, starting to wear himself to nothing with it all. Though it wouldn't be the first time.

"You saw what happened in Vol Dorma, it's best we do this, besides it may not seem ideal to you but it's actually a luxury to sleep separate from me, it's how the nobility does it and I'd think you very much deserve the comfort of sleeping by yourself." It looked like he'd thought about it at length and some carried over from Skyhold and it was too much not to settle it now.

"I need you." Ebrik had finally told him. "Your home is well built and- blue- and it's lovely. I'm sure I'm missing something, Dorian, but for now I don't want to add being alone to the list." How did he explain that? Especially to someone who's apparently lived being told you don't spend the night with the person you're- well- sleeping with. Not that he could explain it to himself, let alone someone else.

"We have talked about emotional blackmail haven't we?" Dorian protested and Ebrik knew he'd won him over when he saw him almost pout. Ebrik started to bring his things in with him as Dorian went on to protest that his home was not 'blue' and that this would bite them in the ass.

Ebrik had half a day once they'd rested two nights to see the city he couldn't see the days before, after that they'd need to leave for the chantry. In a determined move to show him the city wasn't 'blue', whatever that meant, Dorian had all but kidnapped him out the front door. Varric told them with no room for doubt that he wasn't staying indoors and Cassandra, Ebrik was sure, wouldn't be able to if she wanted, injustices and abuses of magic considered.


	5. Chapter 5

Once Dorian was showing Ebrik the city proper, Ebrik got an idea of how bright magister Favius' house had to truly be. Especially when compared to other houses. These were instead darker and had a liking for more metallic colors and muted stones than they had for fabrics and for colors like those on Magister Flavius’ house. Ebrik made nothing of that as well, letting Dorian show him around and tell him what each quadrant was. Apparently the person who designed the city was both a pragmatic person and a sadist.

The places in the city were in a sense assigned to functions, there being a place for the residences and there being a sort of divide to the coast, as if there was a port town involved, but where the houses were conspicuously smaller and deteriorating. It was also no surprise to him that the bigger and stronger the walls, the larger the buildings were and the further from the coast they were.

Dreadnaughts came to mind, and how one had needed a mix of force a strategy and a strike team to take down. Did these people know just how unsafe they were, especially this close to Seheron? Ebrik suspected it was worse even and that they actually did. A panic would have them moving up that large road in the city center and he knew it. But even then it would land them in the divide between the merchant district and these sort of scholar grounds where they had the Chantry and the circle, if one could call it that.

“We’re staying further back.” Dorian told him, knowing Ebrik had made the tactical connection by the look of him. “But aside from that the districts help keep an assault divided. That’s not what I’m trying to show you.” He insisted, prying Ebrik from the outer gates.

“I don’t know, I rather like the gates. They have a ‘trapped outside and cannon fire’ sort of feel to them.” Ebrik joked with him.

“Not very funny, and actually not far from the truth. What would you like there?”

“No the gate is effective, I can’t pretend to know what I’m doing; Cullen would know.” Ebrik admitted. He remembered something then and asked. “You said, back in Nevarra, that I asked you to argue with me, what did you mean?”

“Not in that past tense either, you ask me to do so. Constantly. It’s grating but I carry the job with grace.” If anything Dorian got cockier when Ebrik gave him an incredulous look. “Come now, Amatus, you should trust me implicitly.” But apparently only explanation was going to wipe the smirk that had appeared on Ebrik’s face. “Dorian what do you think about this?’ ‘Dorian what do you know about this deadly, deadly well?’ ‘Dorian don’t let me get myself killed” Dorian imitated. He knew he’d gotten to the crux of the problem but truly believed Ebrik thick enough not to notice.

“I see. Well then, Dorian show me the chantry. I trust you implicitly, I don’t trust Flavius.” This seemed to truly please the mage.

“Inquisitor.” Dorian poked, though his teasing and the tone he took were less stiff than usual, meaning this had absolutely nothing to do with the inquisition, which at the moment felt almost forgotten back at Ferelden.

Before Ebrik could shake himself with guilt, however, Dorian brought him to the scholar district and showed him the circle on the way. Out here, however, there weren’t as many merchants, fishermen and unattended slaves. Here there were mages of that disproportionate wealth Ebrik had been prepared to see. The textiles woke him from the pleasant state as he felt he’d seen these before. He passed on the chance to enter the circle when Dorian suggested it to walk past that and around the corner to look at the Chantry.

Yes the Chantry was different but that’s now what caught his eye. It was the colors, and how the black divine seemed to have a preference for a certain shade of blue. “Is that a color choice all chantries take in Tevinter?”

“Sometimes. I remember reading why.” It took a turn for the unsettling so strangely he never felt the change. He was found with the knowledge that the black divine had a building decorated in sparse blue, of the same shape. A quirk, a quirk as subtle as being suffocated with the bed sheets of his new host. Not that he or Dorian would mention it. He would wait for an opportune moment and Dorian would likely follow his lead. “We should write Skyhold again, tell them how graciously they’re treating us, all things considered.” Ebrik told Dorian, who nodded in understanding and followed him so they could tip their allies off first.

They arrived back to Flavius’ residence and Ebrik busied himself writing and sealing letters to send to Skyhold about this. Sealing the letters was an immense convenience in case someone tried to intercept them and seal them again. They’d be able to close them but they wouldn’t have the sun shaped eye that Cullen had all but insisted Ebrik made a habit of using. He’d expected that from Josephine but no, it had been Cullen who told him to stamp that seal liberally and to knock himself out doing it: Especially when outside of Skyhold. There was something protective in the way he’d said that as well that Ebrik had not been able to put his finger on at the time.

“We should be leaving for the Chrantry soon.” Cassandra told him, having returned from the coast as well from the look of it.

“Find anything interesting?” Ebrik asked her.

“I asked a few questions on Cullen’s behalf, he will thank me for running around.” She told him, sounding pleased with what little she could do in this place. “I remembered him wondering about the mage-line and the ranks among the Tevinter militia. So I asked, they’ve never seen a seeker before- not like me.” This brought a smile to Ebrik’s face at how pleased she seemed. And here he’d thought he’d regret bringing her too.

“Does that make them curious or does it make them run?” Ebrik asked her.

“Curious at first, then you see them want to bolt.” She joked back. “They have a due respect for the Chantry, but in a detached way, like a respect for a relic or a treasure. Have care, being the herald will probably not be enough.” She explained, making sure they didn’t look like they were marching in weapons visible and ready.

“That’s good to know.” Ebrik said, making note of it as they made their way to said chantry. Some things had to be coincidence but he still watched how the slaves who showed them into the building had covered their arms and had ends of what looked like cuts on their wrists. It’s not like Ebrik had expected otherwise than for them to be ready to turn them into ash but this was a holy place.

As last time they saw the chantry building they had not crossed the doors, the architecture took him by surprise on the inside. There was something somewhat familiar about this particular temple that he would not mention to any one of his companions that had not picked up on it. It was times like these where he missed his clan the most, where a comment in elven would give him someone to relate to when it came to these kinds of things. He put it off, however, when they were greeted. The scandal did not escape him as people started realizing that he wasn’t human after all and this wasn’t some elaborate prank. “Ingrates.” Dorian gritted out, looking like while he’d expected it, it didn’t subdue his anger. “Yes, this is the man who saved your lives, don’t show any respect or anything.” At least humor seemed to be helping Dorian.

“That’s not what we’re here for, Dorian.” Ebrik offered, as a manner of seeking peace for the poor man.

Once they made a properly terrible enough impression, Ebrik was ready to speak to the congregation. He waited for them to settle on their own for a minute or two before he would simply speak up.

"Magister Flavius, we can clearly see that you were not lying to us. This is a heretical disgrace." A man spoke up from the higher benches where he had observed Ebrik come in. On these higher benches was where the chantry's brothers of the faith were stationed, observing Ebrik firmly. Ebrik took a moment to think calmly about this through because while he had suspected a betrayal, this was still ire-inducing.

"I am inclined to agree but not in the way you think, revered father." Ebrik admitted. Then placed a bag on the altar's edge. "This is a cultist bag of implements. They plague the south. That is without even beginning to mention Corypheous and his implications. Magister Flavius convinced us that those who must hear us would be here now, it will have to be you."

"We are well aware of the implications. But tragedies in the far-removed south are no excuse to bring this heresy to the heart of the northern faith." The man told Ebrik, looking irritated with his insistence, Flavius wasn't as irritated but he seemed to believe it was magnanimous of him not to be.

"You could have fooled me." Ebrik admitted. "But I suppose giving the report will have to do." He added. "We know what Corypheous was, I suppose, but I'm going to warn you now: You can't ignore this and it's not going to be swept under the rug forever." As he spoke he went to the altar to the right and observed the effigy therein, crouching to fix the flowers to this- spirit? Venerated person? Just because he was not part of the faith it didn't mean the candles should be bending out of place and the wax dripping over the surfaces more than absolutely necessary. He wouldn't want his gods ignored in this state.

This seemed to grind the conversation to a halt as he was, apparently, being observed. He went from minor altar to minor altar, fixing some things here and there, mostly cleaning the stone at the feet of these people who had witnessed and been involved with a woman's revolution and subsequent public burning. It just seemed like the right thing to do with a temple.

The silence eventually became uncomfortable and he had to speak up- as far as he knew they had just been having a conversation. "Blights are about the worst plague that has ravaged this land, can we agree on that?" He asked the congregation before him, mostly consisting on only the brothers and the fathers, which was a blessing he supposed. Even if it had been an ambush to put in the bad word against him. Deep down he knew these men were simply guilty of being faithful to what they had been taught. As children are wont to.

"On that we can absolutely agree. And yet the wardens who would seek to eradicate the plague were opposed by you. There is wisdom in the choices you made for the order, that is plain to see, but it was a matter of horrible circumstance. Can you ask us to stand here and do nothing before the darkspawn?" The revered father reminded him.

"I could not- nobody has that right." Ebrik confessed. "To ask inaction to the blight is a betrayal against more than just empires, it's a betrayal against Thedas. But to ignore what Corypheous became, the fact that he represents the blight, would be treasonous as well."

"And what would a 'dalish' elf know of the workings of the magisters of ancient times?" Flavius asked. His tone made it clear that his patience was running very short and that what he thought of the so called 'dalish heritage'. Clearly posturing, a facade built by savages to run into the wilds and claim to build a superior civilization than that of their betters. This bristled Ebrik, but he had sincerely expected worse- what did that say about him? That he expected worse from the people in this holy place? It gave him the self-reflection not to grace that with a reaction.

"Quite an interesting angle, I can tell you." Dorian voiced, cutting in to lay his pointed sarcasm wherever it was wanted- and unwanted in the most enjoyable of circumstances. Ebrik tried to find it in him to stop him, these shemlen should not be allowed to escalate the delicate situation, he knew that, he should know that. "Given an extensive chapter of ancient Tevinter history is being curated by uncharted groups of elves in the wilds. Fascinating- and at the same time very depressing if we're being honest."

"Curated may be a strong word." Flavius grumbled.

"And isn't that the most tragic part?" Dorian mock-sighed. Ebrik could tell how strongly he seemed to feel about this in particular. What provoked him couldn't be the subject. Something had been said that had pushed him into some passionate tirade and while Ebrik didn't understand it fully he wouldn't object to blessings.

"That is not what we're here to debate." Ebrik reminded them both. "We're here because there's a lot of work to do. Now that we're here, we can get started. Hopefully with that army marching south. It shouldn't be long before whomever is behind this decides that the imperium as well as the rest of the world should bend to their knees."

"Not to mention that provoking the south will turn the gaze of the Orlesian empire towards Tevinter once more- more than it is already. The culprit has already brought harm into Nevarra, and that alone should be alarming to someone living here with sense in them." Cassandra added, having sat on one of the pews to the back to observe what had been happening so far. Varric subtly motioned to Dorian to sit with her and try to keep his back from looking that stiff- it was doing the mage no favors.

"If that is the truth then we can't allow for the south to see the imperium as supportive of this. We did not support the Ventatori as you well know. These things happen." The priest reminded them.

"Nor do you lift a finger to stop it, what a coincidence- do you need any help?" Varric told him. It was clearly a comment that came from a deep, bitter place in him and would not be stopped by any sense in him to say otherwise.

"Back at Halamshiral I spoke to a Comte about this very behavior." Ebrik recounted. "He expounded on some very interesting subjects, subjects that as a respected philosopher he could bring before her majesty at the time. I don't know if this continues to be true but he did have something very interesting to say about the 'loud' inactions of Tevinter during the 'crisis' that befell Orlais at Ventatori hands. A repeat of such an offense could raise some flags, don't you think?" He quoted- as well as cajoled.

"Offense may also be a strong word, elf. Our inaction is born from tact and protection of the community." The revered father explained. "But you may be right." This did not seem to please Flavius in the least. "The congregation will extend it's support. As a benefactor of the chantry we can only beseech Magister Flavius to extend his hospitality to you during these difficult times. I'm told the southern Chantry removed it's support the moment Orlais was offered succor from it's most difficult times. Perhaps you may find that the support of the imperium's faithful will be more reasonable." Ebrik noticed the political maneuver that was backstabbing Flavius and his possible plans for them. This may be a place to start but was he doing the right thing by siding with the chantry instead of the Magisterium so early on? By the look on Dorian's face he didn't seem to approve of the direction this had taken. Wonderful, he thought bitterly.

"I thank you for your support, revered father. You will find that this will only further help the imperium in the long run." Ebrik assured him, hoping that- while he wasn't lying- it wouldn't sound too ominous. Best let them know that his intentions here in the imperium would not change simply because he'd found allies in the Minrathous congregation. Cassandra was the first to get up from the pews, urging her companions to walk ahead of her, making her the last to gesture their goodbyes and leave.

"We may want some place to stay." Varric warned sober tone making it clear that he was serious. "I don't like the idea of being killed in my sleep, I don't know about you."

"If push comes to shove there's always the woods." Ebrik said, trying to bring up the mood.

"No offense but these aren't the woods you're familiar with." Dorian corrected, not having it this very second. "And besides, wouldn't want the revered father to withdraw his support. Especially given that the Magisterium- for all we know- probably have."

"You've seen me play the game before, Dorian, we both know it's going to be alright." Ebrik reminded him. "Do you remember how it worked out when we went to the last temple we went to?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is incomplete at the Kink meme livejournal, if you've read part 20 over there then don't skip this chapter, just find where you left off and keep reading, I made it much longer and some plot important things happen here, very important to understand the mess I'm making.
> 
> Also there's more sappy romance between Dorian and Ebrik Lavellan, what's there not to like?

"How could I forget the sounds of fighting around the adjacent rooms?" Dorian asked back. "Among other things." He added, tone even more cutting. Ebrik left it at that, not about to frustrate their company with their bickering. He knew exactly what Dorian was talking about and he knew that simply talking about it with him for a moment would not make the man simply forget as if by some miracle. That would remain to haunt him. "I need you to trust me." Was the last thing he told him before they went to retrieve their things.

Magister Flavius caught up with them as they were leaving, marching straight to Ebrik in a way that made him wish his companions were not organizing their things around the estate. "Don't think I'm going to allow you to turn my good-will into another exalted march, inquisitor." Flavius told him firmly. "This is the Dragon age, not some era with no alternative to chose from. We have options at our disposal and you should start getting used to that. Resorting to some savagery in Minrathous is not like killing people in the forests and eating their hearts. Minrathous is different, here we have rules."

"I'm aware." Ebrik told him as his companions came down to shove the last of their things into a wagon.

"What's this about savages eating hearts? Please tell me I'm not missing out on dinner! I'm hungry." Dorian protested, dripping with sarcasm at the comment. And at that moment Ebrik loved the man. And he loved Cassandra's disgusted sound.

Flavius seemed to understand why they felt the need to leave, even more so he seemed relieved by it. Ebrik sent the due letters and spoke to his companions about a possible destination. "An inn it is, if they won't have us then we can camp in the woods and find out how they're different." Ebrik offered, his sense of adventure shining through with that grin that said he was going to test a fall from a ledge in the Hinterlands, or meet blades first with a dragon's snout. It made Dorian scoff and mutter about readying a bag to carry his corpse back to Skyhold in a deflated joke.

The inn that would have them happened to be close to the pier. But it was a content looking place with patrons that didn't look like they'd have him assassinated. On the downside, the patrons looked like they would do the assassinating themselves. Varric went to sit down with a group that was discussing some shipment or other over drinks, answering Ebrik his unspoken question of where the docks master was.

As Varric gathered useful information for them, Dorian helped Cassandra move the things to their new quarters to both be polite and keep as low a profile as he physically could. Not exactly successful in this, but at least he could try. There were some questioning looks but no incident, which Ebrik supposed could be attributed to the unfairness of power that mages had over the common folk's heads. Not that he'd step out of line to test that theory.

In here Dorian didn't argue with sleeping with him, thinking the place was of a low enough profile that it would have little consequence of true consideration, especially after all of Ebrik's insistence. The first thing he did when he had Ebrik Alone, however, was to grab his marked hand without hesitation and tell him how foolish he was. "I know the Magisterium is powerful, I know it's what you know how to navigate best, Dorian, but we can't depend on them. It's what they would want." Ebrik started, but was distracted by Dorian focusing on his jaw and tracing his fingers in a halted movement which ended with him removing some unseen lint.

"Good that you know, my breath shouldn't be wasted in advice you won't listen to." Dorian said, firm in his belief that he was always right and that Ebrik would benefit in always listening to him- it wasn't completely serious, Ebrik knew- but Dorian was very fond of that shield he put in place when in doubt and there was doubt. "What I want to know is why you would risk antagonizing the mages that have been injuring your mark- if injuring is even the term we use here." Dorian explained, turning the hand and unwrapping the covers to look at the strange magic that had latched onto his lover, banishing the mental images of what could happen to Ebrik if something went truly wrong.

"I'd ask how long you've known but it's likely to be embarrassing." Ebrik admitted, wondering how long he'd been worrying Dorrian with his hand's minor aches. "Dorian it's not an injury anymore than it already was. Leave it be." Ebrik assured him, waving it off at once.

"Caused by a device we don't understand, of unknown origin." Dorian reminded him. "None the less, I'll be going over some sections at the circle in the morning, feel free to come with me if you like." He told him "as long as you let me read."

"I let you read, you're just too responsive to distractions." Ebrik teased. "And if the magisters are already attacking us on sight, I don't see how we can win their approval."

"One doesn't." Dorian agreed with a shrug. "Bribe and blackmail cover most forms of civil communication."

"And here I thought I left Orlais. Come, you actually have me curious and I'd like to have all morning." Ebrik told him so they could get some rest after all this.

In the morning Dorian seemed less determined to bring Ebrik along to the circle itself, especially given he didn't seem to think Ebrik had truly wanted to go. Apparently he believed Ebrik would have rather go with Varric to the dock proper, apparently to meet someone he had contacted at the inn earlier or with Cassandra who, having gathered the information for Cullen, told them she would be retrieving some letters from Skyhold.

"While you're at the docks try to see if you can retrieve ledgers on mages transporting strange artifacts from Seheron." She asked Varric.

"I'm sure that's going to really narrow it down for us, Seeker." He jabbed, she didn't show any appreciation for it, but it was there, he knew it. "But I'll see what I can do." He added, of course, ready to assist despite the way he worked her up. They left the house to conduct their affairs and Dorian seemed more resigned to the end of any anonymity he hoped to have out here. Although said anonymity likely never existed in the first place.

The circle was different from what the chantry had been. The building was far more consistent with what Ebrik knew of Tevinter before coming here. It always gave him this impression of 'dwarven' but he supposed it was the removed forest dweller in him showing his ignorance to architecture. What little he knew, he had learned from being in places like this and it was only now that he saw such variety in his life.

He also noticed this circle was a lovingly tended and generously crafted structure. Unlike the circle towers he had seen or the prison-like buildings one would catch once or twice in the free marches: This circle was built more as a sort of grand temple turned college. He guessed it had to have some kind of historical significance he couldn't put his finger on and he more than guessed that whatever it was, Dorian could recite the whole thing from memory. He'd have to ask him.

"Take your time, I absolutely brought you here entirely for sight-seeing." Dorian teased as Ebrik had stopped to look up at the edge of the inner walls to peek to where the tapestry hanging there was physically disappearing to.

"Ah, I'm sorry." Ebrik told him. "Lead the way" He gestured.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. Buildings speak and the ones in this district have quite a few old-fashioned things to say." Dorian assured him, then scoffed to bring him along. "Stop looking at me like some attractive-yet-fatherly teacher, it makes me feel old." He scolded, though like many things he said, the heat in it held no malice.

"You say than and then you provoke me." Ebrik told him with a chuckle. The looks would have made a more self-conscious man feel naked by the time they reached the section Dorian wanted to go to, but Dorian was able to get them there without comments. However the mage was bristling under 'something' that Ebrik couldn't put his finger on.

"Tell me if you find a gray tome with silver edge pages by sister Oran Petrarchius, I'd bet my life that she handled more fine-tuned astronomy instruments than she did cutlery in her lifetime."

"I thought you'd want something on the fade." Ebrik told him, but of course kept an eye on the book for him.

"Yes that too." Dorian said, examining a book by First Enchanter Wenselus and adding it to a desk to start his little 'pile', telling Ebrik this may take a while.

"What about Mareno's dissertation?" Ebrik asked him.

"He worked here and I studied it- in fact I could recite you Mareno's dissertation." Dorian told him, tone slightly distracted as he made a face and went to check some of the works kept in the more recent sections. It was a gift, seeing him navigate this place and for a moment there was a pang in Ebrik with the knowledge that despite all his talk of leaving home, he probably belonged here. Or at least he seemed happy here, he didn't need to smile or joke for Ebrik to see it in how he carried himself.

Ebrik decided to keep searching for the book, picking up a copy of the much-taught dissertation to see if there was anything in it that helped. Yes distortion of reality, yes perception of the mind, yes. None of it was helping him. The fade could be in his damn hair and it wouldn't be of any help to him, the only bit of magic in him was this thing in his hand and his knowledge extended as far as 'how to'. It did help him visualize more clearly why things seemed to be sort of sucked into place- and make it more disturbing for him.

Someone called him aside as he did, little after he found the seemingly technical tome for Dorian and placed it on the pile for when he got back. "You. Come here, I have a message for your master." He was told bluntly as the person trusted him not to risk muddling Dorian's mood for the day by giving manners to his elf any sort of importance. He supposed it was the way it worked in general.

"I don't have one." Ebrik repeated with amusement. Their looks of confusion were satisfaction enough on their own. But he did take the message, which turned out to be a very formal letter, a hooded ferryman for a seal. He dared hope it wasn't from Dorian's parents, but the seal looked nothing like the symbol he'd held in his hands nervously staring at the bookcases in the Skyhold library as he braced for the proverbial shitstorm for recovering it. This was not from his family.

"It's not for you to read, stop staring at it and take it to him." He was scolded, which had him looking up in incredulous amusement at these shemlen and how bad they were at recognizing people outside their little world. These people were proving to be a gift to his cultivating sarcasm.

"You're probably right, it's his privacy." Ebrik said, leaving him to deliver the letter before the shemlen could finish complaining about his 'insolence' and how he should be properly lashed for defying his master- apparently a temperamental master then. "That was fast, looks like someone recognized you already." Ebrik told Dorian, handing him the letter. "Also I found the book. It seems to be about cutlery." He joked.

"Then I was wrong. I suppose we're never finding the source of the artifacts." Dorian joked back with a smirk forming at the edge of his mouth as he examined the seal and frowned, reaching to put the research he was holding down without taking his eyes from the letter. "Ah- well." He breathed "Trust them to address the wrong person." He said, looking like he was going to be ill. "It should be for you." He decided, not opening it.

"I want you to read it, they might include personal details and it is addressed to you." Ebrik told him. But that probably wouldn't stop Dorian from reporting to him anything in it he thought was important.

"You are awfully flippant about this. It's disturbing." Dorian told him with a suspicious look. It made Ebrik a little self-conscious. It was ridiculous that Dorian was making him feel like a child the elder caught not paying attention to something important.

"That bad?"

"We should probably not read this here." Dorian told him, suspending their study for now.

"Now I know it's bad." Ebrik said, emphasis on knowing though the correct term should be learning this just now, he couldn't be blamed for not recognizing the ribbons and the seal. Nothing was blue, so this wasn't from the chantry. The magisterium then.

Ebrik didn't press the matter as they returned to the inn, already past mid-day when they arrived and were able to sit in the room with the letter at hand. Cassandra was back and was sharing some story or another with a fisherman who seemed to be telling her about his father's past in the guard. Ebrik would have loved to sit with them but he rather not interrupt and at the moment he didn't have the time.

Instead he closed the door behind them and sat on a fairly decent cot- not that Dorian shared his opinion on that cot last night- to let Dorian take the desk and light a candle closer to himself. "Alright, you've properly kept me in suspense. This letter better be from Corypheous." Ebrik joked. It wasn't lost on Dorian and with a chuckle the mage actually relaxed, which was more than worth every syllable in that joke.

"No, not that magister at least. No, this is the seal of the Archon." Dorian explained as he finally opened it. "I'm reading this out loud."

"I would hope you do." Ebrik admitted, realizing why it would make Dorian so anxious. To him the Archon was something distant and beyond helping them in every stage of his life- or hindering him as the case might even be- Creators guide his path. "I suppose that, like Empress Celene, the Archon has eyes and ears everywhere. I can't say I'm surprised he found us."

"I knew this would happen. Now he addresses me, as if I were making the decisions over the inquisition when I serve as a glorified librarian."

"Librarians are glorious." Ebrik told him, trying to keep his humor. "Besides, don't give me this sudden modesty. Coming here was your plan, helping this country was your set goal. If anything the Archon shows proper grace by addressing the citizens that serve his country with such loyally. Let's just hope he wrote gracefully too- What? What's with the look?"

"No, no, don't stop lavishing me with sudden praise. I don't know what I did but I like it." Dorian told him, that smirk at the edge of his mouth returning and nudging the edge of his mustache with it. Ebrik would find a day in his life where he could stand it without wanting to kiss him. The tone betrayed the joke for how sincere his 'liking it' was- love probably was a more appropriate word. "Well I suppose I've stalled enough and stalling might not be proper." He said, turning to read the letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has become my drug. It's so much fun to delve deep into the lore and Tevinter tickles the hell out of my inner nerd, you have no idea, reader.  
> And now I have so much /space/! I could go on forever here- hell I might when this one tale is over.
> 
> Shoutout to Green Ronin for the expansions done to this universe in their adventure paths and DMing books, if you haven't checked out their systems then you probably should, they're gold and the AGE system allows for a DM to tell such sessy adventures with every tool at their disposal, I can't even! Want to know how much you can stretch this? I once ran a steampunk Dragon Age adventure with airships set in another, future age. It was a lot of fun.


	7. Chapter 7

"It goes over some pleasantries first, that's cosmetic, and I doubt she actually wrote any of it," Dorian said, reading over some introductions, then getting to the actual words the Archon had someone write for her. From the sound of it she had the gentle ruler act firmly in place:

_It pleases me and your family to know of your safe return home. It is my hope this letter finds you in good health. Your work with the inquisition has been closely observed and admirable. The Ventatori have been a thorn on the side of peace and thus not in the sight of Tevinter as allies. Making such short work of the extremists was a commendable strike from the inquisition. I'm sure you would agree they couldn't have done any this without your valuable insight._

_As you may imagine there are many questions that I would be pleased to see answered regarding their motives. You haven't come alone, if the magisterium is to be believed. The presence of the inquisitor is, I'm afraid, somewhat confusing. But we will have the chance to speak of these matters, I'm certain, as tales of your travels are fascinating._

_This is why I hereby request your presence. We will be holding an event at the Grand Proving Arena to which you may attend. You will be contacted with the details-_

"-appended formalities, well wishes, Honorable Archon Diadalia the Maker given, omnia nomina quae honorantur facientis-" He trailed off in Tevene at the last legal assurances that this was indeed legitimate. Then stopped with a sigh. "This isn't a request, there may be consequences if I don't attend, and to make things all the more pleasant my family is mentioned here once or twice- who can be sure, the Archon must have made up some of these symbols."

"We can always go. I think you told me the Archon didn't hold the true power in Tevinter- or something to that approximation." Ebrik said, leaning back on the bed he was sitting on and getting comfortable so that Dorian could lecture to his little heart's content.

"You're enjoying this all too much." Dorian told him. "I ought to put you in a mask again and send you to the arena in my stead. What I told you was that the Archon seldom overrules decisions made by the Magisterium- take that as you will."

"I sure am." Ebrik told him with a chuckle. "What is the arena?" He asked, just leaning there. "I thought arenas were dwarven."

"No- yes- sometimes I think you give me the Dalish wood-child act simply so I will lecture you. Don't you tire of it?"

"I don't tire of your voice." Ebrik confessed. Then frowned. "The wood-child of the Dales is a stereotype, Dorian. It's not an act. I'm not ignorant of these things on purpose." Ebrik told him, because Dorian mattered, and all the shemlen in the world weren't going to affect him like the man who mattered.

"I know it is." Dorian said, sounding like he didn't know what to say to that. So he changed the subject. "It was one of the Archons, the one famous for losing his fingers. He made very important alliances with the dwarves at the time. There was an embassy made and of the buildings we now count with an arena, you will know when you see it." He explained, pleased to see how it relaxed Ebrik.

"I suppose I will." Ebrik said. "Now let me sit on that desk, I should write Josephine about this so she can be properly scandalized. She will march out here personally, you just watch." Ebrik guessed, letting Dorian gather some things. He decided he would write of the letter but should probably not send something like that when these things could be intercepted. He decided he would only send the letters when Cassandra had returned with correspondence in order to make sure nothing was getting lost out there. "We'll have to wait until Cassandra comes back before we can send something like this."

"Don't think I've forgotten your arm. Now show me." Dorian said, deciding he'd take a look at it for the time being. "We should get you back to Vivienne if we know what's best." He said, looking like his limitations truly bothered him.

"And she will, I'm sure, just not at the moment." Ebrik said, deciding to bring Dorian to where Varric was and exchange whatever Varric had learned over a game or two. "Come, we have to be in this room all night, I don't want to be here all day." Ebrik said, bringing Dorian with him. They sat with Varric who had attracted a crowd with some story or other Ebrik was sure the man had started by telling the fisherman at first.

"Glad you dropped by, you might want to hear this one." Varric said, urging Ebrik and Dorian to sit with him and told them about the story as well, resuming a tale about the champion that Ebrik hadn't heard before, something involving the antics they would get to around a tavern at all hours of the night when neither his family nor even his significant other were around to disapprove. "Just him, me, and a lot of bad ideas, those were the days." He told them. "So the thing about the ship was-" he continued for a while, asked a question or two and had some drinks before he turned to Ebrik. "I found your artifact." He told him finally.

"You spoke to the dock master?"

"I did, but that's not who found your artifact. A fisherman working the early dawn found it. I love fishermen, they're the first ones out there and the ones who are watching the tides the closest, so to speak." He explained. "This particular fisherman was out there when your artifact arrived. And trust me, narrowing down what was being smuggled wasn't easy. They transport those in pieces but not in crates, apparently they didn't want to risk someone carelessly breaking a piece of it."

"So the artifacts are coming from overseas." Ebrik said. "We're going to need a ship to Seheron soon."

"That will end in nothing but good things for all involved. Count me in." Dorian said, trying to think of who in the island had those kinds of means.

"I also tried to narrow down your smugglers but apparently Minrathous is just full of smuggling activity- not that I'm surprised, an island connected by a single bridge with plenty of cover in certain places, and a capital at that, I really should have seen it coming." Varric admitted.

"We can try to get in on it. But at the moment we have another little problem."

"Your problems are only little when you're trying to keep us from panicking. Who was assassinated?" Varric told Ebrik, his tone saying that he was ready to have to hide a body now.

"Nothing like that, it's just the Archon wants to see Dorian- no don't give me the face, I don't know either." Ebrik defended when the man fell back to that cynical look.

"Well why him? No offense, Sparkler, but one would think the inquisitor is the one who calls attention."

"I have my theories and I hate all of them." Dorian admitted. "She's probably under the illusion that I own or somehow command Ebrik and I knew this would happen."

"I wouldn't call it command, but you have to admit, Sparkler, you have the most advantageous position an advisor could have in the inquisition. The sooner you admit to that truth the better it will be for you."

"Oh that's not the only part that bothers me, power behind the throne is one thing, but at the end of the day it's the inquisitor who makes the calls."

"I do, but Varric has a point." Ebrik said. "Now this conversation is going in lovely circles but if we don't play a game of wicked grace I'm going to call this afternoon wasted." He added, cajoling them into a game and getting them enough drinks to make them not just go with it but to slip into more blessedly meaningless conversation- that nearly passed as normal.

"-So of course I immediately ask him what the most exciting jobs were like, they call themselves the chargers, I need to know at this point and he tells me about this giant." Ebrik told them, all the while being cleaned out. "A lord apparently wants a giant for some kind of activity or other- lords are absolute prizes to Thedas like that- and they end up in this cavern, with a giant, luring the hulking thing around."

"That doesn't sound like an activity, that sounds like mercenary murder- oh this- this is a hand." Varric muttered in mock surprise at the fact that he was holding cards- or more likely what he was holding. The problem was that the sarcasm was strange, not letting Ebrik make out if he meant this was a hand in a bad sense or in a good sense.

"Yes, those are cards." Ebrik teased, making the dwarf threaten to throw the cards at his face.

"Little doormat shit." Varric poked back.

"Promises, promises." Ebrik joked. They played like this until Cassandra came back, looking over the correspondence and irritated as well. "Glad you're here, Cassandra, take a seat. We were wondering if the courier met you at Skyhold for a minute there."

"Nothing nearly as pleasant. I just had a run-in with a slaver." She told him, leaving the details out which earned her curious looks from the group. "They were prepared at Cumberland, Orlais came through with their support." She told them.

"Good. We should still keep an eye out for more of those things, though. Varric caught word of a shipment. Where did you say that shipment was, Varric?"

"I only got the ship that made the drop, the guy told me it was too early at dawn to make out anything truly useful from that." Varric admitted. "Still, an artifact shipment is a good place to start." He said, then added "It's Dorian who got the more interesting letter so far."

"Yes, well, we might be invited to see the Archon. I'm sure we can all look presentable in a matter of days, can't we?" Dorian told him, tone pushing the irony that he didn't think they could manage as much at the rate they were going.

"Why? What does the Archon want?" Cassandra asked, which was the reaction everyone seemed to share, Ebrik realized; 'the Archon wants to talk to me? No! Keep it away!'

"To talk to Dorian, apparently this is all just a misunderstanding and Tevinter really isn't so much as passingly tolerant of extremist mages with a habit of murdering innocents." Ebrik told her sarcastically.

"Good to see you held onto that humor when I told you to." She deadpanned. "How much have you had to drink? Do I even want to know?"

"Enough to find the morbid amusing."

"I see." She made a face. "Well let's hope Josephine drinks as much when she reads the letter. Did you write her?"

"Yes, but I've yet to send it, we were waiting for you to get back before doing that. Is any of that for me?" Ebrik asked.

"When is it not?" She told him, passing the correspondence, between all of them, it seemed. They were lousy with letters today, Ebrik thought. Josephine wrote him and that had him feeling guilty for leaving the inner circle to handle things while he was gone. Still, it wasn't like he left to do nothing, Tevinter needed help. Tevinter needed a lot of help, divine help even.

Leiliana told him about what the Mortiliasi had found for him. Apparently the device in question seemed to be originally intended as an astrological implement for divination in attempts for reaching 'dreamer' status by a group in Tevinter. Interfering with the fade had not been it's original purpose. It seemed it's original purpose was inspired on Mareno's dissertation after all, it was to distort the perception of the person viewing through it and to see the world that is through the eyes of demons and spirits. "Astrological implement. You were right, Dorian." Ebrik said, handing him that letter.

"We should return to the circle and read more on that book you found, this project is bound to be in there somewhere."

"We still need to remember the Archon's invitation. Best write Josephine about it as soon as possible and with hope they can actually reply before we meet with her." Ebrik agreed. "We're also going to have to go shopping." He joked once more, because there was never so many chances to poke fun at these kinds of frivolities.

Ebrik left them to their own private letters and went to send Leiliana his own report, thanking Cassandra for getting these for him. It was a relief to have some support from Skyhold even while so far.

Ebrik remembered going to sleep. He was in Skyhold that night and had to take a moment to savor the familiar environment, despite the lack of people. Not that it seemed strange for the moment, there were some here and there but for the most part it seemed like mostly everyone was inside. He'd meet them later, he supposed. Instead going towards the gates to take a look outside and perhaps take a walk into the wilds proper for some solitude. "Why did you leave, Hahren?" He asked the man standing outside the gates. Dorian challenged him, true, but the man that made him curious was Solas, after all. It woke a thirst to understand in a way the shemlen couldn't hope to.

"And andaran atish'an to you too, lethallin. Always with the questions." Solas told him, something knowing in his tone that Ebrik couldn't put his finger on at the moment. It made him want to ask more questions if anything.

"I tried to recover the orb." Ebrik said, resisting the urge to fall to back his tongue, not knowing if Solas would wake him for that- Trespass? Overconfidence?

"I know you did. The breach needed to be closed, the orb closed it. You closed it." He told him, putting emphasis on who did so that Ebrik would know not to argue with that simple truth. Ebrik didn't.

"It's good to see Skyhold again." Ebrik admitted.

"Because you've travelled so far?" Solas asked him. "And to such a dangerous place. You may be focusing on the wrong side of that sea."

"It may not seem like it but Tevinter is worth reform, it can happen, Solas." Ebrik said. Solas' silence was firm in a sense."Are you close to us?" Ebrik asked.

"I already told you, Tevinter is not the best place for an elf. But you chose what you listen to, I suppose. I'm not too far either."

"It's good to see you too, my friend. There are things I need to ask." Ebrik said, feeling some haze start to overcome him. It was not Solas' voice he heard when Solas spoke something, it was the haze and something in him and around him. An almost sinister whisper, sudden like a rush of cold water or a nightmare.

"Travel far."

When Ebrik jolted awake his arm felt like it had just stopped aching. Something happened last night. He couldn't begin to guess what but this was what magic was. Confusion, sometimes pain and complete misunderstanding of anything that was happening around you. He went to check what time he lived in, especially because Dorian was already up and had left the bed while he slept. Was it morning already?


	8. Chapter 8

Ebrik went to greet the group, guessing he was the one who had the confusing night. The music in the tavern and some food was going to be a lot of help to clear his thoughts. No sign of Dorian, however, but he supposed that this being Tevinter and him not having to maintain anonymity was a lot of why he wasn't here now. He sat with Cassandra and ate in content. "I guess we won't be going to the circle today, I could accompany you, Cassandra, what are we doing?" He asked her.

"I'm afraid I'm no fun, we wouldn't be going to the library or anything. I was going to speak to the templar order today perhaps gather some information that may yet serve our purpose here. If we're going to gather the favor of those who are powerless to do what is right around here it's a good place to start." She explained, looking as determined as she always did. It was contagious.

"Well, the advisors aren't here, so I might as well do one or two more things the chantry will appreciate while they can't protest." He joked. "I wonder if there's a way to get the northern and southern chantry to work together and find some kind of balance."

"Now who's being too idealistic?" She told him with firm realism under that teasing.

"Hey, I like your idealistic ideas, they keep me on track." He told her with a chuckle. "Besides, we've done some crazy and miraculous things before."

"You are a bad influence on me. Let's talk to them for now." She told him with a shake of her head.

"Look at you two early birds? Where's Sparkler?" Varric said sitting with them.

"Vanished on me."

"Probably went to read everything he can get his hands on. What's this I hear about working another miracle? Isn't it too early in the morning for this?" Varric asked.

"Hey, we've worked miracles before- so to speak." Ebrik teased him.

"Here's a miracle. Let's find proper headquarters out here." Varric said.

"Headquarters. I don't know about that." Ebrik said.

"Hey, by the looks of it we're going to be here a while 'reforming Tevinter' and the inn bed is starting to rob years of my life, I'm sure of it." Varric said.

"Fine, ok, I'll see what I can do." Ebrik said, suppressing any signs that he didn't know what to do.

"Oh relax, I'll take care of that while you two go save the world." Varric decided, because tracking down the artifact might give him a bit of range to find them a place to properly stay.

"If all else fails we can take to the woods." Ebrik said.

"And end your annoyingly temperamental romance with Sparkler? Because we both know that's what will happen. He'll stay here and kick you out to the forest alone." Varric teased.

"Oh I forgot, you haven't had tea." That made Varric grin.

"You may be a quick study yet."

The templar order Cassandra intended to speak to were stationed at the walls overlooking the inner city and outside of it. At the base of the staircase to the walls there was a properly fortified building where the barracks were located and with training grounds for the men, or at least an area they had arranged for that. Ebrik did not fail to notice the entire district was more or less dedicated to this. The soldiers were stationed nearby as well, and there were facilities for some of the militia, yet not all. The families of these soldiers lived nearby as well and close to them was where some of the slaves resided to be on hand in case of something happening or simply being needed.

Here there were no strange looks for him, since they simply assumed he came to aid Cassandra, who was, as expected, heavily armed. He took a moment to observe the conditions the slaves lived in here and saw some of them branded, it was a particular brand, regardless of master and it was deeply unsettling, yet for a reason he could not put his finger on what the brand meant. It had to be fear-inducing to be branded for something when others were not. It was also isolating to see, but he bore whatever feelings of anger this gave him. He had no right to do any less.

"Knight captain, we spoke yesterday, remember?" Cassandra said, catching up with a man, on his bearings the upwards-pointing sword of Hessarian in flames as the templars of Ferelden wore it. The ranks on him and the uniform differed here and there but Ebrik supposed it was only because they were training. In the field there were little variations. At the moment these templars seemed to serve a similar purpose to that of the Divine; figureheads to feign balance of power.

"That we did, Seeker. I take it this is the Herald himself." He asked, measuring him with his gaze and keeping what he found to himself. "Forgive me, Herald, but tensions are running high in the order without your presence as well. Come, we should speak away from the training field." He said, bringing them along to the building at the base of the walls. The western gate also overlooked the sea but here the ship docks were of a more military nature, flying their respective colors while they were manned and kept in shape. "Word reached us of what happened with the Orlesian order. It is a disgrace if you ask me."

"It is a relief to know you do not share their lack of sense. It was as if the ranks had gone mad with power." Cassandra agreed, shaking her head because while it hit her hard, the knight-captain did not sit them here to hear their weaknesses. There was much to be done. "I've told you about the violence that happened in Nevarra, did I not?" She said. "Has the chantry said anything?"

"The chantry is actually torn on the matter, and so is the templar order. However if I can help I have some leave, within reason." He offered.

"Can you take us to Seheron? I see you have a considerable force on this part of the sea, taking us along with the usual supplies for your men should not be too problematic can it?" Ebrik asked.

"Well that depends. What could be on Seheron that you would willingly visit the island?"

"We have a strong suspicion that someone on the island is supplying the devices responsible for waking the dead. What is worse is that I've given the matter much thought and what happened in Nevarra may actually be a mere test of what is to come. I'll have news of the shipments soon. If I would have your word that you will help us when we have something concrete then we will come to you the moment the details are within our reach." Ebrik promised him.

"Well, honestly I don't want to be that man- you understand- the man who refused the Herald of Andraste. No matter how mysteriously the maker is working this time. Just as long as this does not result in another Exalted March."

"Now why do I keep hearing that?" Ebrik asked him, though his expression betrayed that he knew exactly why. "Knight-captain I absolutely do not intend to massacre members of another faith. _I_ Won't be _that _man." With that he got up and firmly shook hands with the man before being shown out. Just because he wasn't going to turn this into a blood-bath didn't mean he was going to let the ones responsible walk over whom should be their charges.__

__"Thank you for bringing me here, Cassandra. I'm starting to feel less and less like it's just us four against everything Tevinter can throw at us." Ebrik told her as they returned._ _

__"There are good people in Tevinter, hidden under the customs and the toxic traditions of their people. Deep down they're simply people and some of them aren't holding mongering power for the sake of power." She assured him. Then gave him a look that said she wanted to scold him. "You're not getting it into your head that you have to do this alone, are you? After reading from Leiliana, no less." She chided._ _

__"Not at all, I just had it in my head for a moment that it was going to be just us four against the world." She shook her head and her expression softened._ _

__"You are the inquisitor, and more-so you are our friend. You do remember what we talked about don't you?" She coaxed. "We're behind you and that does not have to be as isolating as you make it sometimes." Ebrik nodded, following her lead back to the inn._ _

__"I have good news and bad news for you." Varric told Ebrik when he saw him- then chose the order in which he would tell them for him as well, this was bound to be good. "The good news is I found information on our glorified looking-glass shipment." He informed. "The bad news is that I hope you like our inn, we're in it for the long-run. Not that it's going to be the first time I 'saved the world' from an inn, mind you." He assured him, but how heavily he relied on 'quotes' to 'saving the world' made Ebrik even more nervous. At least it looked like Varric was quickly becoming everyone's friend. It gave Ebrik the suspicion that he now knew why neither of them had been killed in their sleep or mugged on the streets._ _

__"Alright, shoot, what happened with our looking-glasses?" Ebrik asked, sitting down with him._ _

__"They're a funded experiment by a group of anonymous circle mages who's parents are paying good money to see their projects yield results."_ _

__"That reminds me of something Dorian told me: Apparently families will do anything to ensure a child of theirs gains power over the rest." Ebrik confirmed with a grim tone._ _

__"I wouldn't be surprised if that's what's happening here. So the kids have their understudies take the devices to places where they may get a chance, the closer to the breach the better, and they deploy them in tests to use the weaknesses in the fade and how close it feels for whatever experiments they want."_ _

__"So our best bet is to destroy these devices individually after all." Ebrik muttered. It had Varric confused but he made nothing of it for now, just filed it for later thought._ _

__"It would seem so- now don't get me wrong, the source has to go." Varric told him. "Which is why Sparkler might have a shot at talking to the people in the circle- that is if he comes back anytime soon." Varric told him. This had Ebrik forget his hunger immediately._ _

__"You mean he hasn't been back?" Ebrik asked. Varric sensed his concern and rolled his eyes to wave it off._ _

__"Try to remember he's a grown man. It's almost embarrassing." He chided, which in turn had Ebrik nodding and giving a self-conscious tight-lipped smile._ _

__"Right. Easy to forget when he protests about every single bit of weather when I take him somewhere, I guess." He admitted, reaching for a piece of the bread Varric had gotten himself to see if he could tempt his appetite again. "Besides, this is his home, if anyone will be fine out there it's him."_ _

__"We could investigate the actual ship when we're done eating." Varric offered him. "What do you say? Keep out of sight, sneak past, look at who's behind this by name, maybe steal some ledgers and-" he snapped his fingers "-we're out."_ _

__"Oh I like that." Ebrik said._ _

__"Must admit, it's one of the less hair-brained of your plans. I need support with you two, though. I'd say you could count me in if I wasn't wearing full-plate armor at the moment, and we don't have a leather replacement on hand." Cassandra said. "I'll sit this one out and make sure Dorian doesn't think we left when he finally gets back."_ _

__"Alright, we have a plan. Let me get something to drink to go along with this bread." Ebrik said, getting up to do just that._ _

__It took no time for them to wait for night-fall, gear up appropriately and leave to the place Varric mentioned. It turned out to be exactly where Ebrik had expected it to be: Within the houses near the circle proper. Probably rented residence from the people studying magic at the circle. The templars- of course- were told to pay no mind to that kind of thing. As long as they weren't summoning demons on the general population they didn't seem to particularly care._ _

__The residential area was built on top of itself and the darkness made it feel even more sinister. But then again he didn't live here, to the residents he supposed this was what home felt like. There was vigilance they were able to slip past undetected without effort and Varric led him up to the higher levels of the residences to search for the appropriate window as fast as possible- as to not give any onlookers time to notice. Ebrik knew the drill._ _

__Ebrik used the broader dagger- a broad, vicious thing as big as his forearm with a particular curve, to pry the window for them to slip inside. "I almost don't want to ask how you learned to do that. Almost." Varric whispered once they were inside, both of them having little problem with the low-light in here and deciding it would be safer for them this way; a human was less likely to notice them than they were of noticing a human._ _

__"I've had my fair contact with shemlen and their flimsy windows." Ebrik offered as whispered explanation, starting to rummage as quickly as he could with him. Varric snatched something that didn't look to have any particular sentimental value. "Penchant for snatching small things, Varric?"_ _

__"You pried the window open. The owner will go mad wondering what's missing and they'll suspect." Varric told him like he really ought to know these things._ _

__"Now where did _you_ learn that?" Ebrik teased, examining the study and finding it empty enough to rummage through what he really wanted. The ledger blessedly within sight but the details of the shipment needing some lock prying. Not that he couldn't, but he had hoped this would be fast._ _

__"Today please." Varric grumbled under his breath, watching the door and getting restless. He had to be getting old for this. Hell, last time he did this was with Hawke and while it was nice to fall back to something nostalgic, it always involved more fighting where he could see his foe._ _

__Ebrik finished snatching what they needed when he felt an uncomfortable chill. "Is that me?"_ _

__"What?" Varric asked, turning into the study and frowning like something was suddenly bothering him. "Maybe it's the hour but it's giving me the chills. Let's leave." Varric urged. While the dwarf could not put his finger on it, the elf could feel something was more than just 'wrong'. Something was watching them with no being to have eyes to watch them. He hated every second of it._ _

__Only then did the drawer close on him. He had what he wanted, sure, but that was not- there was no breeze._ _

__"No, no, that's- I'm not up for this." Varric gritted, channeling his discomfort into anger. Ebrik would have agreed if he hadn't been close to the drawer when it did that. He decided to walk out of that study instead and shivered over nothing when he passed in front of the mirror, looking back at it because something had felt off with his reflection in the corner of his eye- nothing was wrong now, except for the fact that it clearly showed his reflection way more nervous than he should be._ _

__"We're overreacting. You know mages and their small wards." Ebrik assured them, going straight to the window and pressing his lips into a thin line at the blood on the edge, barely visible from the inside that he'd missed while coming in. When he pulled the window open again he started hearing steps, agitating him._ _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is a little shorter but it was the hardest to write for me. So i want to move to the next while I can.

As dark as it was in the house Ebrik and Varric broke into; the presence that Ebrik found when reaching to pry open the window was deeply unsettling. There was something not right about it, part of it because it couldn't be seen. Ebrik held a finger to his lips and knew whatever this was might start making noise any minute now. Instead it talked to them like all demons did when they wanted to make friendly with their victims- why couldn't he see it? What was that wet sound? He wondered, not liking this in a deep primal level. "This house is so warm. Why don't you sit?" It spoke, a deep melodic voice coming from the darkness.

"Ebrik we don't need to strike conversation with it, open it." Varric said, eyes as firmly looking at the window as Ebrik's were looking for the creature. Ebrik nodded and went back to prying open the window.

"The faster we're out of here the better." Varric gritted, helping Ebrik finish prying the window and stepping out when Ebrik gestured.

"Travel far." The monster soothed, making Ebrik freeze in his tracks and look back. It was all it took, since soon enough the window sealed on him and left Varric trying to smash it in with Bianca's handle at once. "You can dream, you can rest and find your answers, or don't. I don't care." It was here Ebrik started noticing there was a voice under it's 'gentle' tone, an echo of something darker beneath.

"Snap out of it, Ebrik look at me." Ebrik heard, feeling himself grabbed by Varric but turning to walk straight to the monster to try to take a closer look at it. He regretted it at once, half of it looking like your standard monster and half of it obscured with hints of exposed flesh.

"Answers? You were listening to us? Was it you?" Ebrik asked, or more like demanded.

"I can't be bothered with answers, but you can rest, have peace. The answers will come to you on their own. All you have to do is rest, let go of your burdens, inquisitor. You don't have to care for everyone and everything anymore. There's peace now."

"This isn't going to work. Ebrik listen to me, I'm going around to the door. I need you to hang in there. Can you hang in there?" The silence was so much worse, Varric reached in again and ripped the ledgers from Ebrik's hand, arm scrapping and cutting in the glass of the window-panes he'd broken with his crossbow. He tried to take a clear shot but Ebrik was in the way, making him grit his teeth and hiss. He'd have to go through the front door. This was not going to be pretty, but watching Ebrik weakly pull a chair and not even manage to sit on it- just slump on the floor- made him determined to get in there.

Coming through the front door was worse for Varric. As macabre as it was, the monster was the security system after all. What sort of sick game did these people like to play with each-other that they would turn to that kind of monster? What was for sure was that neither of them were going to return anytime soon to the inn. He rapidly picked the lock to the door and went inside, crossbow ready. Why was it always worse alone? He passed a table with urns on it and a small fist carved on the very edge of it, away from the only source of light in the house now, which was the open door. "The slaves probably carved this one. Yeah, we're dealing with a sick one, no kidding." Varric muttered to himself, tracing it.

He moved past the hall to the house proper, eyes drawn to the second floor in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Ebrik. What was worse was that the little Altus mage was probably awake and lurking around the house as well with the demon he summoned. The clawing sounds tipped him off first and he trained his crossbow on the emerging creature.

Ebrik crossed his mind as he let lose the crossbow bolts on the demon attacking him, trying to keep from shaking and swearing under how exhausted it was making him he was going to take the mage responsible with him to the grave. It didn't kill the demon immediately like he'd hoped it would, it made it mad, but then he and Ebrik had taken on dragons- where _was_ he? Varric readied to finish the job when the floor under him glowed and froze him from his feet up. "Too tired to hold such a heavy weapon, I see." The mage said, checking on the demon as if he was examining the damage done to an exotic pet. He reached onto Varric's belongings and took the silver cup he'd taken to make a face. "I should let Imladia finish you off." He said, preparing to imprison him before the ice had the chance to thaw.

Varric had experience with apostates before, and how was this mage supposed to know he'd picked the one dwarf who knew their techniques as closely in a fight as he was going to get? The mage's mistake was to try to take Bianca first. Dumb sick little mage, Varric thought, there's a reason Viviene petrifies you with weapons and all and leaves it at that. When the mage took the weapon Varric grunted out, pushing his arms and what little weight he could push behind it to slam the crossbow onto his face.

Unfortunately that apparently left "Imladia". The sloth demon locked the door behind Varric and did some kind of spell on him while he was slowed down by the cold- just, the damn cold everywhere. It was making what was already bad worse and worse, the mirror in the hall fogging and it's edges corrupting with a sloshing sound, same for the table close to Varric's knees and the frames on the walls. Last thing he heard when he succumbed in his desperate search for warmth and rest was a woman choking out what could have been her last wails through her own sputtering blood.

When Varric came to he had been moved to a building that was taller than it had space in the walls. For a head-splitting painful moment he thought he was in the deep roads, but that couldn't be right. "Where'd you take him?" He asked around himself, looking for someone. Thankfully he was met with lights coming from the particularly shaped windows above and noticed he wasn't imprisoned. He still had half a mind to keep fighting and would until he found Ebrik. "Easy, you're in the Embassy." An older man told him, dwarven as well to boot. It more or less gave Varric the idea. "There's talk of you killing a mage but they're trying to avoid an incident in the circle right now. I won't lie to you" he was told with a glass of water "looks really bad right this second."

"When doesn't it? There was an elf with me, has he turned up? It's important." Varric told him, cutting through this crap as quickly as he could manage. "Where are they keeping him?" The dwarf's face told him everything he needed to know. But then he'd seen Ebrik get out of worse, so he could only hope.

"You know it's different. They do too; your friend is probably being lashed as we speak, if not outright killed. You two are suspected of killing an Altus, it's not something you can get out of so easily, and for elves suspicion is more than enough. We at least get the ancient alliances on our side. So you get yourself a fancy trial."

"It has to be different with him, that elf is the inquisitor. There has to be a way to talk a way out of outright killing him." Varric said, the water having helped him a great deal.

"That depends if the human who dragged you here doesn't want to make a public spectacle of it and you supposedly killed his son." He was told with a grimace, making Varric pinch his nose and scoff a breath in cynical humorless laughter.

 

Dorian didn't know what he had been expecting. With Ebrik missing more than a day he decided the times were desperate enough but it didn't make him like doing this any more. And how to approach this too? Ebrik had been tactful with how he handled Halward before but there was no guarantee the magister would consider trying to maneuver the Magisterium to produce him before he massacred his so-called captors and made everything worse for himself. Dorian didn't know how his amatus would react to being alone in that situation and it was the main source of worry. For the rest he knew the elf could actually handle himself.

"What we need is leverage." He told Cassandra.

"What we need is to speak to him outright. End this before it can begin, if your father even remotely has the means then we should not be wasting time." She didn't need to pace to give the appearance of a caged lion, refusing to sit did her just fine.

"If you have any suggestions on how to approach him then I part this very second." Dorian offered her, having been quiet about this aside from the plotting and occasional comment that Ebrik would be hearing his mind about this little stunt. "I don't trust him enough to approach him with nothing, and that's not even the scorn speaking, I'm trying to be pragmatical about this." Cassandra didn't like it but it pulled her to the level-headed soldier she had in there when she stopped to let herself think clearly.

"You're right, we've done nothing but antagonize the Magisters since we arrived, I shouldn't be surprised it turned out this way." She decided. "I should not have let them- That doesn't matter now. What do you need before you can approach your father?"

"No, I can produce leverage, but I don't have the time to do it alone. What I need is for you to find Varric and bring me what he went to lift from the house if he still has it. If you can, also ask him for a quick way into Qarinus" He told her.

"I'll see what he can give me." Cassandra said, satisfied with something to do.

There would be time for guilty rueing later, he supposed. However for all his firm hold on pragmatism Dorian leaned his elbows on his knees to worry his hair and mouth with deep breaths the moment Cassandra had left him alone to his own wretched thoughts. He slapped his knees on the way to his feet and gathered what he needed. 

Noon found him traveling to the docks for any kind of transportation to Qarinus. "I need to be back by the time the Archon hosts her events, will we be making any stops along the way?" It was so _far_.

"You might want to speak to a pirate for that." He was told, the dock-master not cooperating with him at the moment. No, of course not, but maybe he could find a way to bail Varric out first.

"Are you sure about that? We can have you payment for your trouble." Dorian offered.

"It's too much trouble. Maybe it would have served to have been here earlier- I simply don't know what to tell you." Dorian was left with having to wait for Cassandra instead, knowing he wasn't getting anywhere in the docks on his own.

 

"I don't know what you need him for and even if I had sympathy for you I can't just hand him over. There's enough of an incident as it is without us just releasing him to the templars too he's deferred to us. And this hasn't _started_ to be a mess yet." Cassandra was told when she tried her hand at convincing them.

"Then let me speak to him, that can be done, can't it?" She'd resort to bribing if she had to, but she had to know that she could get those papers and perhaps a way to Qarinus by sea.

"Now we're being reasonable. I can get you that." With that she was brought to speak to the staff and eventually brought to Varric.

"Tell me you have something, Seeker, where is he?" Varric said, doing nothing for how agitated Cassandra already felt. She didn't answer, just shook her head instead.

"Dorian says he has to get to Qarinus if we want to have any chances to get you both out of this mess." He told him. "Starting with that thing the mage kept. There's ways but there's too little time."

"Then why stop to talk to me about it?" Varric asked him. "Can't do much from where I am."

"You spent days talking your way through the docks, if you can tell me about someone who can take me straight to Qarinus without stopping anywhere then we might have a shot at this." She said. Varric made a face, apparently it wasn't the route anyone took.

"Well there's a way, sure, outside of pirates- wait." Varric said, rubbing his neck and glancing at the guard to make sure he wasn't being heard. "Actually on that thought, there's someone who tipped me off about the mage and mentioned more shipments made off the record, not exactly a pirate but a cargo smuggler." Now it was Cassandra's turn to make a face, but at this point she'd take anything. Oh these two _would_ hear it from her when this was done.

"Come now, Seeker, underneath all that you know you want our friend as much as we do." He said.

"I do, Varric, I do. Let me tell Dorian, he will not like it."

"Not one bit." He then grew serious. "Let's keep Sparkler company- well you do."

"I am no fool, Varric, I know what he has lost." Cassandra assured him, feeling for the poor mage as well, though she wouldn't say.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We sat down to design mama-Dorian, given we only have a few quotes here and there and I just had to have this. I'm sorry if you feel I got this 'wrong' but a lot of me wanted her to be nothing like one expects. Which is for her to not be a normal parent at all- ok this makes no sense. Shut up, Ovmalk.

The closer the smuggler ship brought them to Qarinus the more Cassandra noticed what the knight-captain had meant when he said the lance-point in the defenses against Seheron was not Minrathous. As if to drive that point home there was a view here of the islands of the Ventosus Straits that outlined Seheron. The assaults by sea from Seheron were bound to be worse here during the war than at the capital, ironically.

Qarinus had the sturdier walls, the more consistent fleet and the tighter security. They were even told that part of the journey would be done on foot, something Dorian didn't seem surprised to hear at all, apparently more familiar with this place than he was with the capital. And for a place so familiar he was absolutely displeased about having to come here every single step of this journey.

The ship pulled up into the forest a ways from the city, gaining cover from that and providing to the people who lived there. Liberati who had started their own families making due with the trade that sustained the empire and Soporati who traded from here and carried their trade to and from Qarinus proper. Unlike in Minrathous there was never an attempt from Dorian to keep who or what he was from people here. Apparently while he didn't consider anywhere truly safe he saw no reason to while in this part of the imperium. "This place was mentioned when we were at Halamshiral, I believe." Cassandra said as Dorian tried to locate someone in particular for transportation.

"I would hope it did, my family comes from here- well my father does, at least." He told her. "Ah, there we are." He said, walking to someone who seemed to have a job transporting people. She was aware he was a slave but there was a code to what he was in charge of. Perhaps he served in some work while in servitude. There was so little of this she understood but at least it wasn't Dorian who's mind was dominated by a sloth demon, otherwise she and Ebrik would have been equally lost.

"I'm trying to find my way back to my father, perhaps you can provide us transportation into the city proper. He's the magister of Azariel, you might have heard of the man."

"I can get you close, yes." The man offered as if this would be no inconvenience, even if it pulled him away from his course. Cassandra would have throttled her companion if he hadn't had the sense to pay for the trip. Which also probably meant that until Ebrik was returned to them- hopefully with his possessions- they wouldn't afford to stay at the inn they'd been in much longer. By the look of the mage he also knew that as he put away his bag and sat with Cassandra in the carriage.

The buildings were, if anything, older, and the architecture was different than that of Minrathous, Cassandra observed on the way. "Do you know what you hope to tell him?" Cassandra asked.

"Business, essentially, Varric gave me the tools Halward will need to officially make this an inquisition investigation. With the time Varric bought us by bringing us through this route we should be there before they execute him or something equally war-provoking." But probably not in time for him not to be lashed and humiliated and it festered in Dorian like venom.

"That is true, we've gone over this. Dorian what will you tell your father?" She asked him.

"I already talked to my father." He told her. "Ebrik made sure of that. Of course he did." He actually cracked a smile again, which Cassandra considered an accomplishment in itself. Even if he was mock-making fun of Ebrik for being an obscenely perfect paramour. He was silent for a moment and pressed his lips into a thin smile, his mustache obscuring the line of his mouth with the motion. "I don't completely detest this place, you know, there's worse. In fact, not at all." He added, closer to the Dorian she was used to by now. She still mistrusted the man, but it let he further see what made the man tick.

They actually made the house which was a testament to how they weren't expected by anyone who might recognize them. The servant who announced them looked like he very dearly wished this task did not fall on him. He called for the lady of the house, a woman called Mildred. Cassandra hadn't known what she had expected, but certainly not the short, chubby woman with the long braid hanging over the side of a more delicate version of that cloth Dorian liked to wear over his armor, despite the fact that hers was over a dress that served to confirm their jests about the silks. Much less the look on her face when she saw her son, as if she'd just found her six year old child lost in the market, rather than her grown Altus mage needing assistance.

"Dorian! Let me look at you- you come in here." She said, grabbing his arms and looking increasingly upset. "You're thin." She protested, the fact that she had him back hitting her as she reached to touch his face. "You-" She halted her rambling then turned to the servant who called her. "There's pheasants hanging in the kitchens, aren't there? Do we still have gravy?" She asked, all but dragging the poor man inside.

Cassandra followed, amused when Dorian tried his hand at introducing her. "Mother, this is Cassandra Pentaghast, seeker of the chantry and founding member of the inquisition. That gave Mildred pause and she greeted Cassandra with a graceful formality that was almost jarring, given how casual she had been with her son just now. "Forgive me. Mildred of house Pavus. I would hope my son had the decency to mention me." She said, colder now as she asked them to sit with her. "I've heard much and more of your inquisition, Seeker, a lot of it tales of violence and a swift ascension to power. What brings a founding member of such a force to Tevinter?" She asked them. The motherly woman Cassandra met just vanishing in public.

"Dorian, actually. He spoke his wishes to return when our foe was vanquished many times." Cassandra told her, which seemed to be the right thing to say because it seemed to make Dorian's mother more curious about her, and about what they wanted, while revealing nothing of true importance.

"Actually I was hoping for your help." Dorian said, taking out a small stack of papers and a mistreated ledger. It gave her pause but she looked over the correspondence first, frowning in focus and examining the symbols for a moment.

"I thought the Inquisition had used my son for it's purposes enough, endangering him out there, pitching him against the Ventatori and interrogating him for Maker knows how much information." She lectured firmly, but got up to look through a straw-weaved covered set of drawers until she found some documents to compare some symbols. She squinted at them through spectacles but satisfied with what she could make out. "Well it's the Archon's peculiar symbols, this is soon Dorian, you're taking a risk coming here." She chided, then looked over the ledger, sitting again. "You also have a very sloppy blood-mage- where did you get this?" She asked him, frowning and holding it away from him until he answered.

"That's the problem. The inquisitor and another member of the inquisition stole them. Varric Tethras is being held in the embassy to await trial and the inquisitor has been taken- We don't know where he's been taken." She made a 'tsk' sound at that.

"He could be anywhere, you said she's holding an event? Perhaps the Archon will decide the entertainments can be dull- this is the same herald of Andraste that produced that incident at Halamshiral, is he not?" Dorian nodded. Mildred paused to think about that for a long moment and decided for it. "Your father will be back soon. I've been overseeing the household closely enough that I think I can spare a trip to Minrathous when he arrives." Dorian was about to say Halward could say no but he'd seen his parents spat. She was going.

"What's the plan when we get there?" Dorian asked.

"The best you can hope for is to denounce the magister's son of his involvement with such extreme and damaging methods." She told him simply. "The elf was sent by you to investigate and got caught in the cross-fire. There will be punishment and the magister will be forced to take his way out where he can get it." She decided. This provoked Dorian.

"He saved the world, mother. And he was investigating another threat that could endanger it again." He told her finally because why couldn't people see that?

"Yes, you know that, we know that. But the magisterium won't hear what they don't want to hear." She confronted him. "If this elf of yours is killed then the blow to the inquisition and the incident it will create will destroy what you claim he fights for." She reminded him, making him keep his temper in check, or at least trying to. At least for now, while it could save lives- Dorian's included.

"We thank you for your help." Cassandra told her, which had her nod and keep the fact that she was not doing it for the inquisitor or for this herald to herself. This was not the Seeker's concern.

 

Ebrik bid his time, knowing that while his companions could get into trouble looking for him, it would keep them from this. That's what he had thought at first. Then time started to tick by, then he was 'warned' with the lash. Now what he had was a hate and a sense of consuming powerlessness. They learned that watching other slaves meet their punishment broke him little by little. The words "You can't help them. You can't help anyone. There is no savior. There is no Maker." stuck with him best. It was part of the process, he knew. And knew nothing but hatred for the process for days.

He'd leave this place, but he needed to give- he had to wait- he couldn't take them all to the grave with him. Why couldn't he take them all to the grave again? He'd think sometimes, the mark in his hand tempting him often.

Even before the mark he was prone to lose himself when he let the hate take him, when he didn't keep himself in check. The shemlen he'd met long ago had been what taught him, but the true lesson had not come until it was his arravel paying the price, when it had been his own. You don't 'save' them, you can't come in from nowhere and 'save' the flat ears, the slaves, the mages or the captured dalish. Who were you to be so arrogant?

It was happening again. Who did he think he was? They were never going to change and they can never be killed. The chantry tried. Otherwise he'd have set fire to it all, their insults and their crimes, then salted their fucking land. Who knows? Maybe he might.

It was only then, when they'd let it fester that they brought him into the open again, apparently _glad_ for his thirst for blood. He didn't know why until they asked him how good he was with a blade. When they told him he would not be allowed to disgrace himself and the Archon in the arena. He'd never laughed so hard, which earned him another blow. So very worth it. "I would be honored to give the Maker given a show." He said, hiding his hate to use later. He'd use it all, that's why he had to wait.

 

When Mildred finally got around to speaking on behalf of her husband in the matter she made sure to start by the dwarven embassy, where she knew she'd have the better chance. Yes her son wanted the inquisitor released, desperately-even, he didn't have to tell her for her to know, but they realistically didn't know where they were keeping the man at the moment. He could be anywhere from the dungeons, boarding a ship to Seheron to a pile of ash at the foot of a pyre. She hoped none of these things, since there could be another Exalted March in the making and then where would her people be? "Magister Halward Pavus of Azariel needs this man released into our custody, he's a valuable witness to despicable crimes committed against the imperium." She told them simply. They recognized Dorian then.

"Didn't think you'd pack this kind of backup, Altus. Come, we will take you to the ambassador so the matter can be settled, my lady." Cassandra had thought her tactic would be different too, thinking she would demand things from people- but those were the stereotypes Dorian despised after all. Someone had to teach him that and she had to wonder, especially with how his mother talked to the ambassador.

"I would not come to you if this wasn't an important matter, and so much of it can't be said." She said, greeting the dwarf and sitting on the chair like the crafty diplomat she was. Making sure to seem lost and in need of help. This was why Cassandra despised these 'games'. "I have evidence- not the originals, it's transcribed, my husband forbade me carrying such things. You've met my son, haven't you, ambassador? His friend was sent on our behalf to gather critical evidence on one of the magisters. Dorian told me his friend from the circle was doing such terrible things- poor boy, bringing such a fate to himself, and so young." She said, keeping her tone a certain pitch and finding no need for water-works yet.

"My lady try to start from the beginning." The ambassador said, offering her a glass of water. She looked at it and nodded. By then Dorian knew they'd have Varric back by night-fall at best.

"Of course, ambassador- I brought all these copies, just in case. Do you have children of your own?" Alright, maybe by noon.

 

"Do you look for paramours who remind you of your mother by any chance?" Cassandra teased Dorian as they waited for Varric to be released.

"I don't know what you could possibly mean." Dorian told her, then deflected it with humor, private man that he was about the matter. "If I looked for paramours like my mother I would save myself half the problems, don't you think? The world would be my oyster, a bitter little oyster, with intrigue and blood-mages."

"I only jest." She told him, again getting the idea of how he thought. The magisterium always seemed so distant to her that she forgot those were people in it, it wasn't hard to forget, though, especially in the south.

"Well _I'm_ entirely serious, didn't you hear what I told Varric about the evil candy that gets passed around?" He told her. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes you jest, you couldn't take anything that seriously."

Soon enough they brought them Varric, who seemed to be in good condition, thank the Maker. If not irritated and _very_ insistent until they returned his weapon. In his opinion they could keep everything down to his small clothes as long as they gave him his weapon. But then again he left in the company of a poor lady of such age, the poor woman might have a heart-attack.

"This leaves Ebrik." Cassandra said.

"And they will produce him once we've spoken to the magister in question." Mildred said, securing the papers, carrying herself entirely different than the confused woman who spoke to the Ambassador. "You should do that one, Dorian. Ambassador Alatania is different from Magister Lorknar, the move I pulled on him won't work this time. He just lost his son and he's out for blood, beyond the use of reason. With him it's going to take a firm hand."

"I can do that."

"Without killing him, who knows what kind of habits you picked up in the south but we want him alive."

"Mother." Dorian told her, trying to stop her from taking the conversation in that direction. "Just give me the papers." Then he smirked. "Besides I need him alive, there's a lot I want to shout at him." She smacked him with the ledger she carried away from sight.

"Oh you- are your father- just get going." She chided.


	11. Chapter 11

Since weakness in appearance would do Dorian no favors, they made him change. Humility wasn't for this crowd and he'd need their attention without- like his mother often suggested- being insulting to the eye. More important than that were the papers. They cleaned the papers up in an effort to make them look more like official documents and less like they'd been stolen from a sloth demon.

They met with the Magister in his own home. Doing so during the day and careful not to let Dorian see him alone after all that had happened. Dorian supposed he could see why his mother wouldn't come personally. The state of the house seemed dormant, like the life had been sucked out of it- and in a sense Dorian supposed it had been for the magister. It made him wonder certain things. Once he was past the threshold however, he focused on what they needed to do instead. Magister Vitus Naevius was already there when they arrived, an old wizened looking man with no equal in the studies of natural influences in the flow of the fade's uses and an expert in thinking he was surrounded by incompetent youth.

"Thank you for coming, Magister Naevius." Dorian told him, Cassandra keeping Varric's silence.

"Of course I came, boy, someone has to keep this crumbling imperium whole while our youth destroys it or pursues fanciful frivolities meant for children." Naevius confirmed. "I do this for your father, it's about time he learned he can't be an uncouth youth for the rest of his life. Now tell me, what is it that happened?" He asked, walking toward the house proper, not bothering to wait for anyone else. The only reason he waited for Dorian was because of the papers and even that displeased him.

"I seem to have discovered a colleague doing damaging activities to the imperium. In the process I've lost a friend to them who was helping me investigate." He said, showing the old man the ledger.

"Yes, well experiments on dangerous materials have been done from time immemorial. That is, if anything, fascinating. However brazenly provoking Nevarra without the circle's approval, well, integrity is dead, I should not be surprised." He scoffed. "I won't lie to you, boy, I care nothing for this inquisition of yours nor your little woes of the south, it's not of my concern. But there are traditions that have kept what little order we have from crumbling." He lectured. "I'm to understand you, too, scoff at the face of responsibilities such as that."

Dorian looked him squarely in the eye and tilted his head a bit, arrogant smirk in place. "Now I wouldn't call it scoffing at tradition, so much at scoffing at some mistakes here and there."

"You naive creature, so much like your father. I suppose I hoped for too much. Let's get this over with. Where _is_ that girl? I don't have time for these things." He scolded, though why he felt he needed to scold Dorian was beyond him.

Cassandra followed, making a face as Varric was more amused by this treasure of a man than anything.

Magister Lorknar received them personally, looking a little tired from it all. He showed them in and took a seat. "I knew it would come to this, sitting here while my son is called a criminal under my roof." He glared at them and retrieved a drink from the table. "Had you the decency to wait for his ashes to be cold I would be more inclined to cooperate." He told them in a bitter tone.

Dorian found he barely had the heart- not that it would stop him. Lorknar lost his son and there couldn't be anything done for him, but he could still save Ebrik. "Have you seen these ledgers, Magister?" He asked, showing him the documents in questions. Lorknar looked at them gravely, very much like he'd never wanted to see them again.

"Take this out of my face, yes I've seen them." He said, then looked at the stairs, at nothing, and added "I wrote them myself."

"What were these materials for?" Dorian pressed.

"Telescopes, I believe." Lorknar told him dismissively. "My son, he perfected telescopes." That gave him a pause after which it was difficult to speak.

"Those were very unusual telescopes, Magister Lorknar. Was the blood magic part of the project?" Naevius asked him with his usual tact. Lorknar glared at the old man then.

"What does it matter?" He spat. "So I killed a slave or two, summoned some help from beyond the veil and made some unusual telescopes. What more could you possibly want from me? Public execution is frowned upon, you know." He had nothing but contempt for them and their intrusions.

"I want to avoid an incident, Magister." Dorian told him. "Many in fact. There was an elf found in your son's house. We want this man back."

"The elf?" He seemed surprised by that. "Why is the- was he yours?"

"No." Dorian told him, trying not to get tired of all of _that_ , he had to have heard that little comment a thousand times now. It needed to end. "He's important." The magister made a face and Dorian was finding his sympathy for him conflicting, however saying something to a man who just lost a son was a low that not even he.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I don't have him." Dorian knew he was never going to be ready to hear it, but was tempted to ask him to wait, to not give him this. "The Archon took him off my hands. He turned out to be important."

They want him alive, Dorian thought. He had time, not long but he had time. "Aside from the elf do you have any more information on these 'unusual telescopes'?" He added.

"Yes, they were commissioned by Magister Cloelia Gordianus-" He said, as if Dorian really should know. "-you were away." He realized. "Wait, this isn't an official inquisition arrest, is it?"

"That depends on what we find when we speak to Magister Gordianus." Magister Naevius told him, standing up. "We won't find your elf here, Pavus, I suggest you let me take my leave to speak to Magister Gordianus about the matter. That girl must produce some answers. The incident with Nevarra must be avoided. Magister Lorknar Nevarra may require your presence in their court soon." He warned, not even saying anything before he was leaving.

Dorian waited a moment longer, nodded, then left. Cassandra was seething, which was good because someone was sharing the anger at least. "If the inquisitor was identified and taken to the Archon- Why were we not notified at once?" She demanded, although he preached to the choir.

"Well I suppose you're going to be in the best position to find out, won't you Sparkler?" Varric told them. "We'll have the questions, Cassandra, I'm sure they won't piss off the guy who took out their ancient darkspawn-magister" Varric tried, but they all knew they might, depending on how incompetent people could be at a whim and with enough anger. Why even let him come? It had all been a mistake, hadn't it?

 

Letting his mother dress him was not something Dorian was prepared to do- even when he didn't have Ebrik with him, so he simply deferred to the inquisition's formal uniform. After all, it might pose a statement of unity when he asked for the inquisitor back. It also had the side-effect that they would be representing the inquisition. Which meant it would be Cassandra who would help him the most, despite the invitation being for him.

The dwarven structure, although time had wanted to claim it, was standing as sturdy as the usual thaig in the deep roads, crawling beast or not. There was a structured hall that came around it, it's many entrances and it's antechamber filling with people to witness the same event. "So, blood magic and blood sports. This place is charming." Varric quipped.

"Both actually frowned upon my the new religion." Dorian reminded him. "No, the arena now hosts other kinds of events." He said. "Though there have been Archons- don't get me wrong- we do get the occasional madman."

It didn't seem to be the case, though, or at least everything seemed to be going normally. He would have to greet the Archon soon, whom was speaking to what would seem to be a young member of the Magisterium little older than Dorian about something seemingly amusing. He waited for now, remembering why Halamshiral had made him homesick. All this was missing was an assassination and a scandalous dance away from prying eyes, he thought amused.

In the meantime conversation caught up with him as a member of the chantry he'd seen before greeted him. "Revered father." He greeted back, hoping he could get a feel for what was happening. "I trust the proceedings are to the maker's liking." He tested, a theory having crawled from his intrusive thoughts.

"Why would they not?" He chantry brother told him. "You worry too much, child, is this your first time in the 'green jewel'?" He asked, walking with him along the hanging gardens.

"No, but you can imagine the inquisition has reason for concern." He told the man. "What with our herald being scrutinized." He tried with the more tactful word he could think of.

"Ah yes, the herald's so called heretical movement. It has some chantry support, despite the herald's own shortcomings. We would hope this will not end in murder, for all our sakes." The brother told him, which halted Dorian's walking. Dorian looked to the garden and tried to find the patience, or even the inclination to carry any of this weight in silence. He wasn't, at all, inclined.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, deceptively calm.

"I only offer you my honesty, if that offended-"

"-You offend." He told him in that calm tone. "That man's 'shortcomings' walked the fade living, saved Thedas, stopped a war and made it possible for you to insult him from the comfort of your own home." All the while tending to Dorian's every little selfish whim, he reminded himself bitterly. "I'm needed elsewhere." He knew he'd caused a scene, and he shouldn't have done that- but these things were best left to Josephine, he was dealing with enough. Cassandra better have plans to march an army north at this point, he thought.

Thankfully he managed to catch up with the Archon, who did not seem amused at his moods and would probably have none of his tirades. He had to be more careful. "Atlus Pavus, I see you've been seeking spiritual guidance." She told him, her tone betraying that she knew better, though he knew she was purposefully goading him. "Perhaps the matters of the faith are best left to the inquisition's resident Seeker?"

"A clever observation." He told her, greeting her formally because in his moods, he'd forgotten to do that. It was calming somewhat, to fall back onto easier protocol. "I'm afraid arguing has been my sport as of late." He admitted. "As you might know, we seem to be missing an inquisitor."

"Of course I've heard of the incident. Come, I did invite the inquisition to this event, at least it would do to meet all of you." She said, bidding him to accompany her along the built exterior ramp that brought them around the arena proper. The moment he walked within it's view it struck him as odd. Maybe it was nostalgia, painting a different picture for him when these events took place before he'd left, but he really didn't remember this arena even being so sparsely decorated. He certainly didn't remember the sand.

"Interesting choice of renovations, I would have hoped to have been here for them." Dorian said.

"Interesting indeed, I thought these games were not fit for the maker's sight." Cassandra said. "Need we be concerned?"

"Rest assured, Seeker, I seek only the maker's blessing in my judgement with every waking moment." The Archon told her in a gentle, pious tone. "Speaking of the maker's longed for sight, Seeker, I hear a lot of the southern divine, what news are there of this?" she asked, observing the Arena from a pillar and not taking her place just yet.

"Much work, I'm afraid. There were ceremonies and formalities to see to. You must understand, the divine is a valued member of the inquisition." She told her. It sounded a little like a rehearsed answer for whatever reason but it was well-delivered.

"There's always work to be done for the Maker, sometimes work we can't understand. Well, I must see to the proceedings, work never ceases. I have faith that we will speak of your inquisitor's return soon." She assured them, leaving for her place with the members of the magisterium proper.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Cassandra grated.

"Me too, let's just see what happens when we plant our asses on the seats." Varric said, sounding more amused than anything.

"I mean it, Varric, this is all too prepared."

"To be fair, Seeker, I've had a bad feeling ever since we've had the rows of golems looking at us, tell me I'm not the only one who sees the golems."

"They're a fanfare, Varric, I've never seen them move." Dorian told him, taking a seat with them.

Archon Diadalia only addressed the people when she was done speaking to an agitated Magister, nodding at the man and apparently pacifying him with her assurances. She introduced the magisters present, the members of the chantry and the inquisition as guests, then assured the audience that they were greeted with fondness before she went into the more religious formalities. "I would like to open today's activities but before that I wished to share with you a chant that spoke to me today, even so now. Father if we may hear the Canticle of Silence, after all, there is a Seeker of the southern chantry present." She told them. This seemed to bristle Cassandra for some personal reason, but she didn't show it, at least not yet. To Dorian it was just odd how brazenly the Archon was denouncing dragon worship- although he knew there had to be another meaning to that chant for Cassandra to be conflicted by it. "This is why for today's events our own allies who blessed us with this structure have forged for us a wonderful tribute to the sword of Hessarian." She gestured at the arena. "After all, Tevinter would be honored that the champion in the sight of Andraste wield the blade to show us his prowess."

This, Dorian thought, couldn't be happening to him. This had to be some sort of hellish nightmare or a fever dream complete with demons. Though his turning stomach was real enough as were the gasps from the people attending.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this with the ancient philosophy of "Screw it" to a certain extent. This was the chapter written with the most doubts in my mind. It really was. Which miraculously topped my previous chapter in doubts alone.  
> I like to believe the doubting, second guessing and re-reading worked, though. After this I might get my hands on someone to edit for me but I make no promises. They might not be willing.

The young dragon's harness wasn't even fully brought along the handles to the gate when things were already going wrong- as they were bound to go. From the angry magisters surrounding their madwoman, to the people starting to snap out of shock and to panic, to the three people leaving the crowd, navigating it for a chance to jump into the arena.

"There's a spell in this." One magister argued, under the glare of another magister.

"There's something in this, yes, but it's not a spell, it's an exalted march- and where are _you_ going?" Cloelia demanded.

"To kill her." Halward told them simply with a tilt of his head.

"You'll give her what she wants." Cloelia argued

"Not the girl, the dragon." He answered, kind of understanding why she'd be confused, killing the girl could come later.

"Stay where you are." Diadalia warned them. There were seven of these magisters, a handful of them present, more mages that answered to them and a whole upper-class of people who could fling a spell the wrong direction. This had to be somehow kept in check and their arguing had to be contained here. Keeping it simple, that was where to start. "He's right, there's a spell in this." She lied, fueling their argument to keep them divided. Hopefully it would be long enough to keep them from killing the dragon.

 

"I'm not engaging it, not while it's chained." Ebrik told Varric when he saw them. "You see those exits? These people are going to start pouring out these exits the minute she starts breathing fire."

"Well the golems have rods, we just have to convince people to use them correctly." Dorian told him.

They were all trying to think in what few moments they had before this became an even bigger mess. They turned to where he was watching, further back from where the gate was to the golems that were pulling the weight of controlling the whole thing.

"Good luck with that." Varric said, measuring between them and the holders of said rods. "It's not like we haven't fought one before and something's gotta be holding her in place."

"We need to get in there with her." Cassandra decided.

There was no guarantee they'd take the rods but the gate held more options than to wait. They ran to the gate, taking the chance that it was being pulled open and by the time it was up they had crossed the arena.

The inquisition group running on the sand to secure the dragon had the people closest to the arena keeping very still as others standing further up started spreading the word that the monster was going to be pulled back.

 

There was a lot of sweat but not a drop of blood, making Diadalia start to doubt considerably. There had to be faith, she tried telling herself. Only faith was going to prevail here if all else failed. There were still things to fall back on.

"The way I see it" Naevius told her. "You can be killed and you can be replaced just as easily." The arguing was dying down, which was a bad sign for her.

"There's the image of the Magisterum hanging in the balance." She warned "If the herald survives this little test, you would be the ones standing and my corpse couldn't testify."

"You gave the order." He answered, looking about ready to laugh in her face.

"Everyone knows you pull the strings. I don't have real power here and Tevinter knows it. I'm just here to posture and look like a fit, reliable leader." She warned, tone growing vicious and bitter with each word.

"You don't look fit or even sane right now, you look like you're trying to destroy the imperium." Naevius lectured. "Back this off before we kill you, girl."

"I'm pushing the imperium to greatness." She said- but it was like explaining it to a wall- or at least it was in her mind.

"As if you're the first upstart to see us as targets. This isn't greatness, you are trying to destroy us. It's tiresome." Cloelia told her.

"It'd be ironic if she actually has a plan." Lorknar said.

"She might, after all, when has she ever relied on anything but faith?" Flavius said, whom was known to be as religiously fanatical as she was.

"You be quiet. We would not be in this chaos if the old guard had not been practically eradicated trying this stunt with the south in the first place." Naevius gritted.

 

"We won't pull this by hand- _hey_ , big girl-" Varric said as the dragon snapped at them as they tried walking past her, having to take cover when she breathed fire, the flames probably visible from outside. "Oh she's not liking this."

"Don't tell me." Cassandra grated.

"Sparkler where are the sodding rods?" Varric pressured when the dragon breathed at them again, more aware now of where they were.

"Did I give the illusion of-" a slap of the tail as they watched the structure protest. "-I'm looking, I'm looking!"

They ended up scattering to take different positions necessary for their individual tactics for managing the situation. Cassandra went to fight for the gate, not wanting the thing open anymore. The way she saw it this was attempted murder but it didn't mean she didn't try to warn them. "Lower the gate, I will not ask twice." She warned them. Which had the two elves and the one human abandon it for her to do whatever the hell she wanted with it. Which left her forcibly pushing the thing closed. It only made the beast angry and forcing her to juggle it's attacking with closing this gate. Thankfully Ebrik was lending a hand in his own way.

Varric and Dorian left Ebrik alone to grab the rods, Dorian looking for the mages who would have them and at the sight of them Varric helping him take them. "You can hand them over or you can call off the golems, your call." Varric offered.  
"We're calling this off right here. The Magisterium wants this chain pulled." Dorian partially-bluffed. Letting his mage appearance and the necklace do half the talking. They wanted the chain pulled now.

Especially because Ebrik was waiting by the dragon, trying to keep it from attacking the people in there by distracting it, ignoring the pain as he jumped all over it and around it, slipping in and out of cover to keep it's focus on him and ready to do worse things if it got out of hand.

 

Thankfully they started pulling back the chain, which in turn made Diadalia panic. No, the plan had some free range but there were things that when they had to go perfect, they _had_ to go perfectly. "They're still trapped with it." She muttered, which she knew was further agitating one of the magisters with her. She hadn't brought that boy to keep him close for this, but she could use him if this plan didn't crumble.

"We can make this public and open the gate still, if you let me down from here." She offered, which had Halward look down at the arena, then at her. It occurred to him what he was going to do then.

"Very well, we're going to open the gate, we can't reach it from the outside." Halward assured her, which had Cloelia look like she was going to protest, then look at the hall, and nod.

"The Archon is right." She said, 'saying yes to the crazy' so to speak. "We can still open the gate with the help of the rods. We can finish executing the herald if that's what is needed. Flavius will you follow her decision?" She asked, wanting this over and done with as quickly as possible.

Following consensus after consensus, vetoing nothing, appointing only the people suggested by her 'betters', those older than her, those who would maintain everything as was and do nothing while greatness passed them by. Diadalia looked between them as they agreed with her with an almost raving mad expression of confusion, fear, then comprehending acceptance. "Yes, well, yes- you lead us, Naevius, you're bound to know this place best."

"I certainly do." Naevius said, looking impatient with all of them. Right now, more than ever, he was convinced that he lived surrounded by idiots, extremists and useless idealists that didn't lift a proactive finger for the better. And now this girl wanted him to walk ahead in case there was a trap. He'd bite.

 

Killing the dragon in place turned out to be an easier feat as it was, however once they did the fade pulled that 'wrong' pull again. Especially when Ebrik used his mark to finish it off. Apparently it had been the wrong thing to do, which he told nobody.

The Archon never made it to the gate from the inside, three of the other magisters did, covered in blood and looking like they'd just gone through hell. Which was a sentiment the members of the inquisition shared. "It was a necessary evil." Lorknar admitted, examining the dragon like he hadn't expected those four to take it down with nothing but glorified knives and opposed by the gatekeepers and the mages managing the rods.

"Someone needs to send these people home, thankfully we're not talking about a lot of them." Cloelia said, leaving Halward to awkwardly take the rods and clean up this mess in silence.

"Someone will have to make notifications. This is a disaster. What's wrong with your arm?" Lorknar said, but shrugged it off when the group took the elf with them, apparently having decided that they'd had enough.

"Look at our winners," Varric said, calling the attention of these new mages as if he was about to mug them "I'm thinking a place to stay, something to eat, a proper healer, one- two- three formal apologies and for Maker's sake, a proper bed." He said, because as far as he was concerned everyone involved with _any_ of this for miles was in the deepest pit of shit conceivable.

The first order of business was to clean up. They ended up dispatching people and knew it was going to take a miracle to patch things up. Meanwhile the magisters knew Naevius dead was going to be a gaping hole in that opportunity, as unpleasant as the man could be- he was efficient at the same time. The problem being that by hating everyone he was a sort of mediating force. Ironic given the comments here and there that they couldn't wait for him to kick the bucket.

Ebrik was kept away from them as well, despite them actually accommodating him, even when he was and could be a threat- he was a worse threat dead. While the inquisition took care of their herald and of contacting each-other for their affairs, the magisterium made contacts of their own, calling back the remaining members who'd been away, especially because a swift decision from both parts was ultimately necessary.

"It's probably back to arguing with them." Varric said, writing with Cassandra by his side. "I'm not entirely sure it won't be that way with us."

"It may be, with the inquisitor injured, and us out here, there is any manner of ways this can be seen. Varric we must remain here. Perhaps send some agents we can trust or make other allies out here."

"A nice sentiment, Seeker, do we even know what he has on his hand?" Varric asked her.

"Dorian has not ceased to examine it."

"And how's _that_ working out for him?" Varric asked her. Then turned his attention to the letter he was composing. "What we need is to send the inquisitor home. This is going to be taken as a big deal and if there's any hope for it not it's either him or Jossie."

"Then Jossephine must know this is no moment for conflict, please ask her this, tell her I know it's asking for a miracle but there must be some way." She thought, for everyone's sake.

 

"You must know much of this is beyond my expertise." Dorian warned, trying his best not to be awkward around the bed where the inquisitor had been resting, he was not the best at this. "Unless you intend for me to entertain you back to health." He added.

"Almost, in a sense. I needed someone here so that it wouldn't be Cassandra. She and Varric both need to organize and write those letters. Skyhold can't be allowed to find out by anyone else's word." Ebrik explained, having sat on his bed at one point so his back was against a wall and to allow Dorian to examine his arm to his heart's content.

"It takes a whole new manner of distortion for this to happen to it, but you read about it with me, didn't you?" He asked. "And now we know it truly is an astrological implement that did the original damage." He added. "I want to return to reading about this."

"Then get Varric to find you the book you want- or Cassandra. They both know how to navigate a library. Probably for different reasons." He suggested.

"I truly must be there, what I need is more than one book, and the idea might be scattered among them."

"Then take me with you- don't give me the look- I really don't want to be here." Ebrik asked him. "Let them know or don't, just get me off this bed and to that circle with you for now.

"Well if it's what you need it can be arranged." Dorian thought. "It _is_ a bad idea, I just know it."

"So you won't do it?" Ebrik asked him in concern.

"Oh I definitely will. You must know me better than that." He said, taking the man's right hand to help him up, letting him take care of the rest so they could return to the circle and see what was happening.

"We must go to Seheron, but we probably shouldn't divide so far from each-other, especially now." Ebrik told him, taking him to sit with Varric and Cassandra.

"Good you're up. I have a mess here." Varric told him. "A well-redacted mess, it's very pretty penmanship of a mess but it's still a mess." He said, warning him it was freshly written and letting Ebrik see the letters and what he had so far. Ebrik sat to read all of it and learn everything he could from the facts he hadn't been there for.

"That's a weakening division- It's contagious." Ebrik admitted, agreeing with him. "We might want to bring in another idea in here, but we're going to need your help, Dorian." Dorian nodded at that. Ebrik looked over a letter to Josephine that was in the making and told Varric to assure her that the magisterium was not only divided, but it was undermanned now.

"Will do. Where are you going?" Varric asked, not to stop him but curious as to why the elf was getting an allergy to rest now.

"Dorian and I are going back to the circle, we need to leave to Seheron soon and there won't be time to research while we're there." Ebrik explained. "Solas was right, this isn't a place to be navigating alone. Especially now."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the theme of preserving certain things. I think we can all imagine how this will go C: At any rate I want to thank everyone who took the time to read this. Let me go hide in the curtain in honored embarrassment now. I hope this is good, if not that then entertaining, if not that then at least 'so bad it's good'.

They'd been summoned to Minrathous, and it had taken days for word to reach anyone listening along the imperial Highway and across the Waking sea, all the way to Ferelden. Who knew where else in the world and what impression it was making. At the moment, however, Magister Radonis was waiting to speak to Josephine Montilyet, their best chance, and his, given how close he was to the inquisition when this happened. Traveling here from Orlais would cost time, but it was what he had to do.

While he waited there was no harm in observing a cat try to cajole it's way to another room, presumably some other entrance to the tower. He saw that same tower while coming up these angled stairs. He had to wonder if the cat was simply not allowed there or if someone simply forgot to let it in. He looked to where people weren't looking at him- or maybe avoiding to- and saw no real harm in taking a chair nearby to try to make a gesture with his fingers to make a faint sound by rubbing them together. Perhaps it would tempt it to smell him.

He must have dozed off waiting for the ambassador because at some point someone had forgotten a tea bag on the table and sat by him whom he only remembers completely ignoring. Age had to be catching up to him, he thought, petting the cat who'd come closer. "Magister Radonis, I'm glad you actually came. It's been- a little hectic." Josephine told him, ushering him with her and away from the animal to speak with him. She seemed pleased he hadn't been bored, apparently it had worried her quite a bit.

"I've heard. I could try to tell you that had I been in Tevinter- but these are false guarantees. We don't know what could have been in truth, that's for the dreamers." He told her, skirting around a little to see what her disposition towards him today was. Towards any tevinter magister, in fact. He didn't want to speak for the imperium just yet when she could very well be looking for a target. She showed him nothing outwardly and in a sense he had to admire that. "What we're left with is what we will do now."

"And isn't that the solid question?" She asked him, bringing him up some stairs, towards where the cat wanted to go, and up a tower where the mages therein seemed busy in their own affairs. Familiar territory? She could be simply being polite, this woman thought of everything it seemed. "Magister you mentioned focusing on the now, and while many would agree, we can't ignore what happened." She told him.

"That could not be further than what I meant. You must know after what happened with Coripheous we are in a position where mutual help would be nothing but beneficial, despite differences." He explained, again, not committing to anything until he heard everything.

"You will forgive me, magister, but wha happened at the Green Jewel was not beneficial to anyone, it seems not everyone has agreed to this position. It pushes us to a place where trust may not even be possible." There it was. He thought for a moment, watching the cat run in and mistreat some plants in the garden below. It gave him time to think.

"That's why I'd like to speak to the inquisitor personally." He told her.

"Many people do. He is, of course, not here."

"I know, but I'm on my way to Tevinter now." He said, then cautiously added "Anyone not present at the Green Jewel has been summoned back to the imperium to conduct necessary formalities. Perhaps the inquisition needs some sort of message relayed for reparations."

She could take it, use Radonis as a way to stall for time, maybe even a way to open better communications with the imperium. But how much weight could the magister possibly have? It was a bit of a gamble but maybe it didn't have to be. "I'm afraid it will have to depend on the inquisitor." She looked to where he was watching, then at another tower. She tapped the fingers not holding her pad onto the stone. It was a risk nobody would want her to take and yet, these people had saved the world before her very eyes. How do you put a service such as that in the balance at all? "However since you will be taking a message with you" she voiced, keeping it from sounding like she was letting out a breath of determination and failing "there are certain seals and certifications you will be given."

Radonis no longer seemed interested in the cat, instead watching her carefully and fascinated with the 'game' again, as the Orlessians would say. "Much could change by the time I make the journey."

"We will see you there safely _and_ shortly. What is more I will send word to lady Cassandra, the only person who can make a sudden move now is the inquisitor himself and as you can imagine, I could not stop him if I tried." She warned him, looking like she had planned ten steps ahead of this as she started preparing some document or other on her pad- or taking notes, who knew?

"Good, then there's one thing." Radonis told her, deciding now was the time to speak his mind, after she'd declared it a safe space to do so. To her credit she did not seem at all surprised, she seemed like she was expecting him to ask for one of their prisoners, or for someone's head. "Speaking of mutual benefit there is talk of experiments regarding the taint. I know the inquisitor has a lot on his hands, but if I could bring some personnel to see into this matter I would like to have the chance."

Astute- or as close as he wanted to get in front of her right now it seemed, she'd bite. "You would have to speak to commander Cullen before you leave, then. I will warn you, he's not very agreeable after word came from the Green Jewel." She warned. "We at the inner circle can be very protective of that man at times- you understand."

"I see. I will speak to him as soon as possible, Lady Montilyet." He told her, then went over proper formalities and started crossing Skyhold to speak to commander Cullen, no matter how he would likely hiss and spit in his direction- or maybe not, who knows? He thought, realizing it wasn't that people were ignoring him, but quite the contrary, they were purposefully not looking at him.

 

"-we've agreed to offer the magister certain assistance with unsettling activities, frowned upon even on Tevinter soil. So that they may put a stop to displays that may give other countries the wrong idea about theirs, the magister wishes to speak to the inquisitor personally to ask for help and to respond to what will be no doubt a retraction from Tevinter at this entire- That didn't take long." Cassandra muttered, handing the letter to Dorian over his own notes.

"Of course they're trying to pull back the cart now that it started going down the sinkhole." Dorian told Ebrik, going over the letter. "Could we squeeze them, at this point?" He asked, looking tempted slightly by the idea.

"I think we're already doing that." Cassandra admitted. "But it will work only for so long. What do we know about this magister?"

"We know he wasn't there. Only good thing I can say about the man right now, and we know there will be more." Dorian told her.

"You did say they handed the seats like they were bad candy. How many are we talking about?" Varric asked.

"Seven. There's three, two are coming, one is coming _here_. It's still only one man, yes, but the magisterium _is_ at it's weakest, they can either be plied nicely or can lash out; cornered." Dorian advised, wishing he could do better than that.

"That still makes five, they have to hand out more seats." Cassandra told him.

"Now more than ever." Dorian agreed. "Remember, there's still the Archon, now they _really_ need people on those seats. The magisterium chooses the Archon, and Tevinter will not tolerate much longer without one."

"I know the first thing I'd want is the people's trust after an incident like that." Ebrik admitted "But then again I wasn't brought up with all 'this'." He waved around with his right hand. His left kept more and more still. It made Dorian narrow his eyes the first time he took notice.

"At any rate that's my concern for another time, when he comes we can settle this. Here." Dorian passed the letter back to Cassandra and went back to a map of the imperium, having placed some markers on and around Seheron's coast as he read.

"Staring at it more isn't going to make the fortress mark itself on the page, sparkler." Varric told him.

"I'm not staring" Dorian defended "I want to put the weights on the right places."

At the circle they had started by reading almost every book on the telescopes magister Lorknar had spoken about. When Ebrik was starting to sport a headache and by the time they had made notes, Dorian moved on to picking up the work done by Lorknar's son. Ebrik had gone to get some sleep and had eaten something by the Morning and had seen little of Dorian. The man did eat and sleep but he juggled that with tirelessly trying to pinpoint who supplied the parts.

They had learned that the telescopes could be used to look into far away places in the fade and they were being used to channel power into spells as tests and for many other purposes, which in turn was not necessarily stable, according to Dorian's protests of the day.

"We need to pick one up." Dorian said finally during the afternoon. They were gathering some things needed to not starve Radonis when they met with him.

"We're picking up a few things, Sparkler, we're blackmailing him just fine, don't worry."

"A telescope, an original, we want one- I want to look into one." Dorian corrected, letting Ebrik know the awfully studious man had not been entirely there with them when they'd talked about what they would do about the magisterium.

"I can ask magister Tilani, maybe shey'll know something." Ebrik all but promised him. Dorian had almost forgotten about this man's ill-conceived plans to give him the world in a silver platter, it seemed, especially when it slipped his mind long enough to ask for something out loud.

"There he goes, Amatus this isn't necessary from you, Tilani can be written to." Dorian told him.

"Don't-" He ran a hand over his mouth "-look, I was going to speak to her anyway, does that make you feel better?" Ebrik confronted, silently asking 'not now'. Dorian gave in to those wishes for the moment, unable to deny him almost anything the last few days. Ebrik just counted it as a blessing. "Besides, now that makes them two, two's good out of seven and a potential madperson." He joked, which Dorian seemed to like. Like a vicious circle, his liking it just inclined Ebrik to joke more.

 

They spoke to Radonis first, however. Bless Josephine, Ebrik thought, she'd found a way to send them resources in a way that did not intrude with the situation they had. "Greetings inquisitor." He told him, sitting with them. It wasn't him magisters usually talked to, yes, but this was a clean-up of sorts. "I spoke to Lady Josephine about the events in the Green Jewel." He told him "I understand 'problematic' is understating it. Before I forget- she sent a message with me." He added, handing Ebrik some documents.

Ebrik nodded and took the documents from him. "The raven she sent brought word that you would be meeting with the magisterium- I presume to fill the missing seats?"

"Three losses and the death of an Archon. I doubt we've had a reunion this important in years." Radonis said, a morbid sort of humor in his tone. Over an elf, he thought to himself, what 'times' to live in. "Not to mention the inquisitor's attempted murder- a lot hinges on how this subject is treated." He sad, holding out the metaphorical hand.

"A lot does hinge on it. More hinges on the work we've come to do. You see, magister, we didn't originally come just to communicate Corypheous' existence and his effects on what we know and thought we knew about the chantry. We also came here on more personal business." He explained. "You're not the only one who wants what's best for Tevinter." And he wasn't, despite what dark thoughts came to Ebrik from time to time: Someone more important cared too much about what happened to this country for him to even consider the thought of forsaking it. Losing Tevinter could, in the end, mean losing Dorian. And it wasn't like he thought they could bring true ruin to them, but they could lose them as allies. He would move any mountains necessary to avoid being at war with the country his lover wanted to help. Even if that country sometimes proved itself unworthy of Dorian.

"Let's cut to business first and we'll see from there, inquisitor." Radonis told him skeptically. "What are we talking about here? An audience with the black divine? A voice in the magisterium? Validation from the first enchanter?" He listed, knowing he could pull quite a prize for each of those things if he played his cards right.

"What would that cost me?" Ebrik asked, implying he understood the magister just offered him all of it- and if he didn't, he probably should. It had Radonis pause to serve more of the clear liquid into his cup and consider it while he drank. There was an intrusive impulse to tell the elf 'it was just a dragon' but it wouldn't go the way he wanted it to, would it? Maybe make him understand that in a more subtle way. He put the cup back down and chuckled a little.

"I once heard from former magister Alexius that you tended to want things in spades when you wanted them. Now I see where the reputation comes from." He told him. "These things take time, inquisitor." He added. "How long could you truly be away from Skyhold? Missives and modest lodgings are well and good but there comes a time when even empires can't manage everything."

"You misunderstand, that's not for me, it's for the imperium."

"An oddly patriotic sentiment coming from an elf, of all people. A dalish elf, from a foreign land I may add." He said, observing closely and now determined to find out how his mind worked. Was it that simple? Back at Halamshiral he had revealed nothing but a wish to aid his people and save the world from his maneuvering, but then there were words like these, almost as if they were not his own. He thought about what he had heard and- how could he have not thought of it before? "So it is true what they say, there's room in your heart for more than just Thedas." He jabbed in what seemed to him like good humor. Instead it earned him an almost defiant look from the elf. That was the nerve, he had many, but that one was harder for him to defend. "Which brings me back to my question. How long do you think you can stay here? You'd have to leave personnel behind, wouldn't you? In fact, I'd think you have perfect candidates."

"Enough. I don't think this is the best discussion for this afternoon." Ebrik cut him off. "What is it that _you_ want, magister?"

"Glad you asked. Have you ever seen a darkspawn, inquisitor?" Radonis asked. Ebrik at once knew he wasn't going to like this conversation. "In your famous escapades, i mean."

"I have, many. Some dug out in the name of research, some brought out by things even darker." Ebrik told him, letting the mage know that nothing good could come from the cursed blight. "Everything they touched turns to disaster in my experience." He warned.

"Then we're in agreement. I spoke to Lady Montilyet and Commander Cullen. I will be needing your help. Currently the last person who can say no is you." Radonis said, gesturing at one of the documents the elf now held. Ebrik examined it, whatever this was had to mean the world to magister Radonis- it probably affected his country or maybe something personal even.


End file.
